


Project Alpha

by your_dragon_just_shot_at_me



Category: TMNT (2007), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-10-30 17:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17832974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_dragon_just_shot_at_me/pseuds/your_dragon_just_shot_at_me
Summary: Karai's search to bring Shredder back from the dead had taken untold resources. Resources the Foot Clan has continually acquired at great cost to the scientific world. Scientists and doctors from the most prestigious universities and companies are going missing. Medical truck raids are putting New York City in a state of panic as hospitals are unable to keep stock for their patients and a medical crisis is brewing.Nine months have passed since the Winter's Tower incident. The turtles daily routine has returned to a quieter city. It's the looming threat Karai gave that keeps them looking in all corners of the city. But to them, the Foot have vanished. They promised a threat was coming. Leo has become obsessed with finding this threat. His brothers help but there are other worries more immediate than the phantom Foot Clan threat.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is homage to the tmnt franchise. While primarily set in the 2007 film universe there are elements taken from the 2012 series and IDW comic run as well. This is a massive fic I have been working on for well over a year and am still doing edits. I will attempt to update once a week with a chapter. (Not that I expect anyone to really read it. I have written it for me. My tumblr account for the fic also has a valentines commission: tumblr tmnt-project-alpha

**Two years before the Winter's Tower Incident**

 

  A shadow moved at the door. Silent. Karai didn’t need to hear them though. Her eyes opened knowing she would not be able to meditate further. The light from the stasis chamber was only overpowering a for a moment. Inside the glass chamber lay Shredder. Without his armor he looked more fragile than she’d ever known him. He looked human. Still a grotesque, twisted version of a human. His wounds had been healing, slowly. The broken bones were going to be the hardest part. Every doctor they had told them the bones healed slowly and some in incorrect positions. They may have to break a few again to allow for them to heal properly.  That had been months ago, though. Now. Now things were far more unclear. Harsh lights in the chamber bleached his skin more than time had. Muscles laying useless deteriorated.  
     Monitors were stacked across the stasis chamber from her, silently outputting information about him, as it had for over a year. Stockman’s promises, seemingly psychotic a year ago were fast becoming a dream. She’d led the Foot during this time but under the assumption that Shredder would return. She questioned every step she took. The Foot did nothing great during this time. So often they were idle she heard rumors of coups and mass exits of soldiers threatened. She would face them head on and quell them for a time until they surfaced again. She did not have the heavy hand like Shredder did. No matter her lineage.   
    He hadn’t left her. Not yet. Or, more accurately, according to Stockman he hadn’t deteriorated beyond the point of hope. Hope was something she was losing by the day.  
    “Yes?” she hissed. Her highest general handed a tablet over. “Does Stockman recognize any of these doctors?” His nod would have been imperceptible to anyone else. “Retrieve them.” Hesitating to take the tablet she answered his silent question, “All of them.” Handing the tablet back she added, “And bring me Stockman. I have many questions for him. Again.” He melted into the shadows to enact her orders.


	2. Chapter 2

**Present Day (Approximately 9 months after the events of Winter's Tower incident)**

 

       The edge of Chinatown was distinct. The lights on the archway radiated red, white and gold before your eyes took in the sight of the cluster of signs in the narrow streets. The street always seemed to be bustling, like most of New York, even after dark. This city, always packed tightly together but Chinatown it is more apparent. Each building felt connected to the next, the cross streets almost disappear and the gaps seem as small as alleyways. Traveling through this part of the city was easy.  
        Ignoring the fact that it was close to home, this was a borough they grew up in, trained in, but over the years they frequented Chinatown less and less. He may not have come through this way at all if his brothers didn't start reminiscing about it with father. Chinatown was not out of his way from the junk yard, but he often kept to the sewers. Particularly in the day. Best not to get caught by people, especially on camera. At this time of night Chinatown was still as active with tourists and natives as the daytime.  
       Kitchen vents delivered new scents at every rooftop. Fried noodles from a restaurant. A street cart with fried dumplings. The next roof he could smell a whole assortment of fried meats from another of the array of restaurants. Great. Stopping for this detour delayed dinner already and the aromas were conspiring to make him hungrier. Sentimentality clearly came with a price. What was wrong with him, making this detour anyways? By the time he got back all of dinner would be eaten. Mikey and his bottomless stomach would see to that. The others would just laugh and he would be scrounging for food. Wait. Did he need to get groceries again? Probably. Another item to add to the never ending list of things to get done.  
       He continued to jump from rooftop to rooftop until a large gap at the far southern edge of Chinatown appeared. He wasn't sure the building was still there until he saw it. Every building in the area was at least three stories, usually more. An old, single story home sat at the edge of the district. When they were kids it was abandoned. From what he had gathered the it was a home and had been converted to a shrine. It was hard to say if it was supposed to be a Japanese shinto shrine, a Buddhist temple, or a shrine to a man from Chinatown. Not that it mattered now. Someone still owned the building but no one used it for anything anymore. From his perch on the rooftop, even in the dark of night, he could tell the building should be condemned. Holes littered the circular roof. The building always seemed strange. The architecture was so far removed from the area. It was circular and he only remembered there being a few rooms inside when he was a child. The unique reason they stopped here at all was the garden. The building encompassed a small grassy garden with a single sakura tree. Sensei brought them there to see the sakura tree bloom in spring a few years in a row when they were small.  
       Too early in spring for blossoms yet.  
      He jumped down the outer edge of nearby fire escapes until he could reach the closest section of roof. He judged where the best location to jump would be. Shingles were loose everywhere and he doubted the integrity of the wood supports.  
      All the windows were dark in the building, it didn't seem like anyone was around. He dared to leap onto the peak of the roof and vault immediately into the thin grass. The cherry tree seemed both bigger and smaller than he remembered. He could easily reach up and touch the lowest branches. Buds were starting to appear, it might blossom in the next couple days or weeks. He would have to remember to come back, maybe he would bring father. Father rarely came to the surface but this garden was generally a safer place to visit than other places in the city.  
       Something scraped the wood inside. Could have been anything, but he knew he shouldn't risk getting caught if some person was holed up in the abandoned building. At least the sewer entrance was still in the far edge of the grass, near the back gate to the alley. Swiftly, he ran to the cover, lifted it, jumped in and covered the entrance again. Next time he would do more recon. Or, if he was more intelligent and did not listen to Michelangelo and his inane stories, not bother being sentimental and just run his errands and get home.

 

* * *

 

 

        “Did you see someone in the garden?” a girl turned to a boy at the sliding door to the garden. Tools, new wood, a few pieces of furniture littered the room. The electricity was on, and being paid for for that matter, but not really working in this room yet. Or most rooms. Extension cords ran all around the room, mostly connected to work lights. The girl, average height, small build, had tripped over the hammer while trying to avoid a ladder in the dark room trying to get to the light stupidly left near the back door.  
       At the front door, the boy she was talking to, clicked another work light on from the floor. She cursed herself for not remembering that light. “Nope.”  
       “I'm serious.”  
       “You must be seeing things again. Think this place is haunted?”  
       “You're an idiot.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up in a week! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mild swearing and sibling bickering.

    Donatello threw his messenger bag on his bed. The lair was dark and still save for the graphics on the video game consoles dancing around. His brothers had retired early after their hard day training. And as he predicted, no one left any dinner for him. Michelangelo ate every last piece of pizza and finished off the cereal, which meant little for breakfast in the morning. He would definitely need to ask April or Casey to get some more groceries for them in the morning. Donatello switched on his work light in his computer lab before he booted up his work PC. Another late shift working as a IT phone technician. Waiting for the PC to boot he rummaged in the cabinets, not surprised to find them mostly bare. He felt fortunate to find a box of ramen hidden in a cabinet and enough oatmeal to lead to a loud, complaint filled morning. Waiting for water to boil he checked the security system cameras, ran back to the kitchen for his ramen and a soda, grabbed his headset from his bed and sat heavily in his computer chair.  
    Before he logged in to the VOIP account for work, he thought about his detour. He really shouldn't have stopped. He kept kicking himself that Mikey got in his head. Now that Leo was back, their family whole again, Mikey was becoming rather reminiscent about childhood. Every time April or Casey came over Mikey would convince Master Splinter to tell different stories about their childhoods. The most recent being some of their rare outings to the surface.  
    “Ever since the day we were mutated we have had few safe havens above ground. Day or night.” Splinter curled his tail around his feet on the couch, settling in next to April. “When they were small children I kept them bundled on me with a blanket, but as they grew they would not heed me, or be still. It was impossible to keep them safe above ground.  It was my duty to keep them safe, even if Michelangelo insisted on climbing the pipes all the way to the ceiling.”  
    When the giggles died out, April asked, “Where could you take them that was safe.”  
    “Of all places,” Leo needed to stifle another round of rare laughter, “the junk yard.”  
    Appearing to meditate on the story, Splinter continued, “It was the only place with a fence Michelangelo would not climb over. I also was able to run them around finding what we needed for our home. To an extent.”  
    “Let me guess, Don would try to bring everything he could home.” Casey tipped back his beer, eager to get a shot in.    
    His brother’s enjoyed that barb too, “Yes, laugh. I built that warming lamp we still use in the winter.”  
    Claiming the room again, Splinter continued, “When they were older, and I could venture out further and leave them in the lair, I started to explore different neighborhoods. I enjoyed the atmosphere of my old home in Chinatown, and knew the streets well enough and that I may go unnoticed. The boys were young, five, perhaps six years old when I stumbled on a community garden on a roof near the edge of Chinatown. Fresh vegetables were the hardest foods to come by. We only took sparingly and I taught them to help care for the garden as our way of repayment for the food.” Pausing, Splinter sipped at his tea. “One evening as I searched for food behind the restaurants I was almost found by some cooks coming out on a break. I dove behind the dumpster, cornered.”  
    “Like a rat?” Mikey yelped as Splinter’s tail whipped the side of his head.  
    “Police were investigating a murder at a small house on the edge of the district. I had seen this place. It did not look like a house, many people visited, like a shrine. It was a peculiar building. Short and round. From the rooftops I could see a small garden. Weeks passed and I studied the building. It was most certainly abandoned and no police visited any longer. During the depths of the night, I woke my sons early and took them to this small house.”  
    “Wait wait wait…why would you wake them to take them there? I mean…”  
    “Grass.” They intoned quietly.  
    “Grass?”  
    “Hey, it’s not like we can just waltz around Central Park!” Raphael’s face fell but lifted again seconds later, “And that tree.”  
    “What tree?”  
    “In the middle of the garden, a sakura tree.” Their father stretched out his hand, he’d concealed a paper flower in the folds of his robe. “And it was mid spring. The blossoms were just opening.”  
    April tried to conceal tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she watched each of the turtles relive the moment. They could still feel the breeze swirl around them, allowing the light scent of the cherry blossoms to wash over each of them.  
    Donatello opened his eyes. Back to reality. While living in the sewers offered relatively low amounts of bills, he still had to pay for gas and groceries for the family. Reminiscing was nice but he needed to get back to life. IT, as painful a job as when Leo was gone but at least he got the occasional technology repair job in his drop box. Money was money.  
    A wall full of monitors sat in front of him, lighting the entire room. Gadgets in various stages of build were scattered among his floor, desk space all the way around the room with remnants of wires and bolts making a trial practically to his bed in the next room. Maybe he would consider stopping at that sakura tree again on his next scavenging trip. Or even the community garden.  


* * *

 

    One of the absolute best reasons to live near Chinatown was the food. Their house was technically not habitable, let alone the kitchen in any shape to cook food. Electricity was still not working in any of the rooms. Extension cords had been running from the breaker box to the living room and kitchen for several weeks now.  
    The bright spot after a long day at work was a ramen restaurant just down the street. Their dad had known the owners when he lived in the area, Mr. and Mrs. Zheng. They even remembered her and her brother from the few times dad had taken their family out to eat. Now they saw her every other day.  
    Slouching further against the wall Carina threw her chopsticks into the soup container. She’d really hoped her brother had gotten the electrician on to commit to coming this week to fix the house's wiring. In the time since they’d lived here with their father animals had eaten through much of the wiring in the walls, vandals had made some holes in the walls and taken copper piping and wiring. They had been living here for almost a month with no water or electricity,  due to the holes in the ceiling praying each night for no rain and living off of nearby restaurant food. Their move to the city had not been as well planned as she had hoped.  
    Pulling her hair out of it's tie, she ran her fingers along her head and through her hair, pulling at it, letting it trail over her face before brushing it back again. A warm shower in her own home. That was all she wanted. Puffing out a breath, she stood up and looked out the window that had been above her head.  
    “What?” she whispered. A tall figure was standing in the garden just staring up into the cherry tree. It was tall, taller than her at least. Over six feet tall for sure. There was something strange about his silhouette, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Not that her weariness from the day helped her vision. But this had to be the same person she saw last week. Chris thought she was crazy. Not that she would be able to prove it. She had no idea where her phone was in this house and if she tried to find it she would make plenty of noise and scare the person away again.  
    How did he keep getting in to their garden? Their back gate to the alley was always locked unless they were bringing building materials in to the house.  
    Carina watched for a few minutes. He never really moved much, just stared up in to the sky and at the tree. Keys jingling shook her concentration. Her foot caught on an extension cord pushing her just off balance enough to land on the door as her brother opened the front door. By the time she turned again the person was gone.

 

* * *

 

    He finally understood how April felt when she waited for him after he’d completely forgotten to meet her somewhere. Fingers drummed the couch, endlessly waiting. She’d tried on three outfits, each with different pairings of shoes before she remembered to check her schedule and which client she was meeting with after lunch, which set off a whole new chain of outfits and shoes. As far was girlfriends went, Casey was lucky. She was easy going. Smart. Unbelievably for him. She even knew how to save money back when she was a reporter and making pennies compared to now. She was able to front the money for their new apartment. Casey, he still had trouble taking out the piles of take out containers when she was out of town.  
    Plus, vigilantes didn’t seem to make much money.  
    “April, we’re gonna be late!” He buried himself into the couch cushions, waiting to see her emerge again from the bedroom in the loft. He never asked her to go out with friends of his. Most of his friends, or people he vaguely knew, had ended up in one of the few gangs that took hold of his old neighborhood. April had described one she’d met as abhorrent and that had been the end of that. Well, it had been the end when she accused him of trying to steal her phone to learn where her shipments were coming in.  
    She wasn’t wrong, of course. He’d conveniently been dropped off at a police station after a meeting with Casey’s baseball bat and fists.  
    “I’m coming! I am almost done.” She emerged in a suit. After all those outfits it was one of her black suits. “Who are we meeting again?” She was fixing an earing in place.  
    He knew she remembered. “Chris and Carina. They lived down the street from me when I was a kid. They’re cool, you’ll like them.” April’s nose wrinkled at him, “What? Oh come on.”  
    “You said I would like…Jason?”  
    “Joe?” Casey wiggled further back into the couch cushions. He should have gotten longer in the slammer. He was back out in days after Casey had met with him. At least he didn’t try showing his face around the docks.  
    “What was his nickname again?”  
    “The Snake?” His head suddenly hurt. “And the cops took care of him. Come on, these guys are different. You’re really gonna like ‘em.” It was hard for her to get past some of his past, which trailed him around more and more. “Seriously. Their dad was a doctor in the neighborhood, ran a small clinic. He took care of people.” Instinctively, he tucked hair behind his ear, pulling on the collar of the nice shirt he wore. He felt like it was strangling him already and unbuttoned the top two buttons, then one more for good measure.  
    April sat with him on the couch, fussing over his rumpled collar. “So, what? They help bail you out? Or patch you up?”  
    “Ha ha.” He could see her trying to hide a smirk. She loved a good joke about his vigilante ways, “Fine, yes. They all took care of me when my pops wouldn’t, ok. Car, she was like a mom when I didn’t have one. And she didn’t. And…aargh!” More buttons.  
    “Oh,” In the years they’d been together there were few things Casey didn’t talk about and they all involved his childhood. The details she and the turtles had were sparse. His mother passed away, she was sick for much of his early childhood. She’d gathered that his mother was very loving and took care of him and his father well. April thinks she worked multiple jobs based on what she had heard. His father, well all she really knew was he had been a drunk and with a local gang. But if she tried to bring any of that up he would storm out to the roof for his not very secretive stash of bats, hockey sticks and mask and be gone until the early hours of the morning. “We should go then.”  

* * *

 

 

    Casey had abandoned the button down shirt before they left the apartment. Even unbuttoned he was sure it would strangle him. Fine. It was fine. April looked classy in her stunning suit and he looked like…him. He was starting to consider running the few blocks back to the apartment for his shirt when he found Chris and Carina at the bistro they’d picked. If they hadn’t noticed him yet he could run back to the apartment in a few minutes and be back with his dress shirt.  
    Carina played with the straw of her iced coffee, flipping hair out of her face until she noticed Casey. Her brother ducked out the way of her flailing arm. Jumping around he could hear her from several store fronts away. Some things never changed. And he was completely under dressed, Chris showing him up with a fitted sport coat and tailored dress pants.  
    April groaned. She wasn’t anticipating this. She was exuberant. Bubbly. Had a history with Casey. Wasn’t in a gang, that she knew of. And Carina was a pretty girl, not that he’d known that before this moment. April scowled at her perfect hair, athletic build. Casey could see the jealousy building in his girlfriend. He hadn’t even seen Carina when he’d ran into Chris at the bodega after catching that mugger. He shouldn’t be surprised. They were twins and had definitely won the genetic lottery with their looks. It’s not like he was jealous of Chris. With his similar chestnut hair, shorter and more cleanly kept than his own. He probably used gel or something to make it look like he was a model. He was also athletically built, not that Casey wasn’t.  
    Ok, Casey might have been just a little jealous too; starting to regret the lunch as well.  
    He couldn’t turn back now though. Carina was barreling toward him, “Casey! Casey! Casey!” squealing between each screech of his name, without a breath until she slammed into him with a hug.  
    “Car? I guess that’s you!” April was going to have a whole new set of feelings about this later. “It’s only been about fifteen years!”  
    “Casey Jones,” Chris held out his hand, “And you must be Miss O’Neil.” He offered his hand to April, a coy smile spreading as he lifted his sunglasses. “I would say Casey told me all about you but I, in fact, remember when you were on television. How Casey ever managed to find someone so lovely is beyond me.”  
    Loosening up, April shook his hand gratefully. Smooth talker.  He would have said something but Carina burst between Chris and April enveloping her in a hug. “Ah, I still can’t believe it either!” Stealing her brother’s sunglasses, she looped an arm with April and headed into the bistro to order. “And lose the smooth talking. You’re not fooling anyone. Who would have guess Casey would find someone…I won’t finish that. Let’s go in.”  
    “Someone what?” this piqued April’s curiosity.  
    “Respectable. Case ran with a tough crowd when we were kids. We figured it probably continued into adulthood.” Chris finished, trying far less to impress April.  
    Casey appreciated having both of them there. “Ha ha, can we order.”  
    Sandwiches, chips, soup containers and drinks littered the tiny table between them. Carina even stealing food from her brother while they talked. She also seemed to make the most noise in the already noisy bistro.  
    Jokes were not exactly April’s forte which didn’t stop her from trying to keep up with Carina’s enthusiasm. “So, were you all in a gang? Because that seems to be how Casey knows people.”  
    Chris tried to keep his chips from Carina’s crafty fingers. Failing miserably, “No, it wasn’t…”  
    “Yes, you could say that.” She snatched another chip.  
    “If,” Chris took the chip from her hand, “you can call Mathlete’s a gang.”  
    “You were the president.” She proceeded to steal another chip.  
    “Shut up.”  
    “Mathlete’s. And you were friends. With him? Casey Jones?”  
    “Sure,” Chris balled the bag up, throwing it at his sister’s head.  
    Brushing the crumbs from her hair, “If by friends you mean we saved his ass being beat…”  
    “…weekly…”  
    “…by the local gang.”  
    “Sounds right.”  
    “And made him dinner.” Carina unwrapped a cookie. Casey was unsure how she could eat so much and stay tiny. She’d barely grown taller since he’d last seen her.  
    “You’re all hilarious and I’m about to go find people who appreciate me.”  
    Slurping up the last of his drink, Chris shook the remaining ice. “Hey, how many times did those Savage Skrills come after you?” Twisting the edges of the paper wrapper Casey’s head shook. “I mean they were different guys usually.”  
    “They kept at the guys in our classes. What was I supposed to do? Let the kids that couldn’t pass gym class get taken into the Skrills?”  
    Tackling her brother, their battle ended with Carina covering his mouth, “I don’t think it mattered how many of us it took to keep you from hospital trips, it was definitely the right thing to do.”  
    “Didn’t you walk home together, or something? I mean that would help deter…”  
    “They didn’t exactly go to school with me.” Chris pried his sister’s hand from his mouth. Not that their battle ended as she scolded him in his ear. “In fact, I guess none of you did.”  
    “None of who?”  
    Carine twisted her brother’s hand onto the table, holding him firmly down, “We were in a group home.” She released his hand.  
    “And home schooled. Bitch.” Chris twisted his sister’s hand from latching on to his face again.  
    “They were all crazy smart.”  
    “I thought you were Mathlete’s?”  
    “It was a joke. We could have been, I guess.” Shaking his wrist, Chris retaliated slamming his sister’s hand into the table.  
    “Damnit! Jackass!” One solid punch connected with his shoulder, “House full of smart people. A lot of us went to college early.”  
    “Surprise, surprise.” Casey easily remembered why he loved being with Chris and Carina and their family. They were incredibly kind and generous, fun even with their large family and the bickering and playing. He’d forgotten how out of place he felt because of how smart everyone was. “What did you two get up to?” Generosity aside, it didn’t make the question any easier.       
    Carina was pinching Chris’ arm, “Doctor.”  
    April was in a fit of giggles behind her water cup. “I did not expect that.”  
    “Followed the family footsteps, crazy loon!” Chris couldn’t land a pinch back, she had successfully blocked each attempt.  
    “What did your father do? Case mentioned he was a doctor.”  
    All he could do to keep his sister from pinching him any more was to move away, “Genetic engineer.”  
    “Would I have heard of him?” April directed the question to Casey, not that he knew.  
    “Dr. Kurosawa.” Carina pouted at her brother, not that he was about to move back toward her.  
    That name was familiar. She knew it, she’d read it somewhere. Not in her time in school or reporting. Recently, or within several years. Her own cup slipped onto the table, crashing. “Wait. Dr. Hideki Kurosawa.”  
    “Yes.” They answered together.  
    Casey looked blankly at April. “He is a world renowned genetic engineer! He worked on gene splicing before they cloned Dolly the sheep!” He was still dumbfounded. “Really? Nothing? Not even…never mind.” He was back to regretting this lunch. “So, did you follow in the your father’s footsteps too?”  
    His foot was propped on her chair, waiting to kick or hold her back. He may have looked ridiculous, twitching his foot to keep her at bay, but he was over being pinched. “God no. I’m an investment broker. I mostly do day trading.”  
    Now she was full of intrigue. Two people she could talk to about all kinds of things he didn’t understand. Of course she started right in on it. Casey was left fiddling with the straw in his cup as everything started going over his head. “Hey,” he asked over the chatter, “didn’t you mention you were having issues getting contractors to your place?”  
    “Yes!” Carina glared. “It’s ridiculous. I have no idea why they won’t commit…Chris?” her voice rumbled.  
    “Did you know that our home is in multiple books about haunted places in New York?”  
    “I…uh…I could lend a hand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Hoping to stay on schedule and post the next chapter next week Monday. This was a long one, they aren't all this long. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Fluff. Still not into the action yet. No other warnings. Enjoy!

    Donatello folded his arms on his workbench. He stared at the dismantled engine. He was missing several parts and was anxious to replace it in the van once again. Last week Mikey said it was starting to make funny noises. If he only said it last week Don was sure it had been making it far longer. On top of that a recent fight had left the front end banged up. None of this even compared to the beating the van took during the Winters’ Corp fight. He had been looking for a new bumper for months but nothing he found at the salvage yard that fit their van.  
    There was little he could do with the engine at the moment. He lifted his head and fished out a list from his bag. His list of parts was growing again. Most of the parts were small, he could bring a box or large backpack to carry most of it without bothering his brothers. Even if he found a bumper for the van he could probably carry it back on his own with little difficulty. He had a few spots he could stash it in the sewer if it did become a problem.  
    He could ask Mikey to help. Maybe not. Mikey had been bored. And a bored Mikey led to pranks which always ended in a lot of yelling, punching, and broken things everywhere. Raph was not in the lair. Best case scenario was him hanging out with Casey. Neither of which would be keen to help. Leo could help. Leo was probably training with Master Splinter. Maybe he wouldn't bug them.  
    Donatello stood up and grabbed his bag. He had made some coffee earlier in the afternoon, he would grab the last of that and head out.  
    And this time he was not going to make the detour in Chinatown. Absolutely. Last time he thought he had heard a door open. Maybe. But he shouldn’t chance it. The building seemed abandoned but he hadn’t taken the time to actually check it out thoroughly.  
    He kept going back to that building every time he said he wouldn't. Sitting in the garden, looking up at the tree and the night sky was different there than when he was with his brothers out patrolling the city. The stillness in the garden, the sound of the city dampened by the surrounding house felt like he was in a secluded area like a forest or in the mountains. His mind felt a small bit freer after spending some time at the sakura tree. He felt lighter. And he knew what everyone said about how he spent most of his time in his lab working on all his projects. Or just working. Or out at the salvage yard.  
    Master Splinter would be furious if any humans caught sight of him. Leo more so. Even suspecting he’d heard a noise inside meant he should definitely not make the detour.  


* * *

    Carina had seen him twice now. Whoever he was, he appear in the garden, watch the tree and night sky and then disappear. The ghost stories about their home were absurd considering her father owned this building. Seeing him, it, whatever and now even she was starting to wonder if there was some merit to those stupid stories.  
    Chris laughed at her every night because she would put a cup of tea out on the walkway near the spot she saw her mysterious figure. He hadn't been back yet. She really hoped that the tea wouldn't scare the person, ghost, or whatever it was away for good. She left the sliding door to the garden open enough so she could slip outside if he showed up.  
    Carina started to sip her own cup of tea. She was thankful that they had gotten a new stove in the kitchen. Finally, they could cook some of their own meals. The work on the house would progress much faster if they could get the electricity working in all the rooms again. There was still so much work to do: busted floor boards to replace, massive holes in the ceiling, new drywall in most of the rooms, replace most of the appliances. The list of repairs felt endless.  
    A small movement caught her attention. “No way.” she breathed. Holding her tea close to her chest she sidled slowly out the open door into the courtyard. The figure came from the sewer entrance at the far edge of the garden. No wonder she never saw him enter or exit.  


* * *

 

    Donatello scolded himself for this continuing sentimentality, if that even was what it was anymore. He couldn't tell. Any day now the blossoms would open on the tree, maybe he would tell his brothers and father and they could visit and he would just stop making this detour.  
    Something seemed different tonight. There was a faint scent in the air. Scanning the garden he saw a small cup of hot tea. Even in the darkness of night he could see the steam drifting out of the travel mug. Someone was living here. Or it was a trap. Karai said that there was unfinished business with the Foot. Fantastic. He would need to get out quickly.  
    “Wait!” a soft voice called out. “Please don't go. I won't hurt you.”  
    Damn it, he thought to himself.  
    “Please. I've seen you visiting. It's okay.” She was stammering a bit.  
    He really should have just made a break for the sewer entrance. One woman, who clearly did not sound like any of the Foot he had encountered or gang members, was hardly a threat.  
    “I made you tea?” she was moving closer with small shuffling steps. From her voice she didn't seem to notice what he was yet. “Please?”  
    Turning around was a terrible idea. People generally screamed at the sight of him and his brothers. He couldn’t bear to make someone scream on purpose.  
    “It is best if I leave,” he said quietly. “I am sorry I disturbed you.”  
    “What? Why?” She dared to take another couple shuffles forward.  
    “Terms used to describe me tend to be synonymous with monster.”  
    She bent in half, trying to get a better look but there was an alley behind him with no lights to help her see. “I find that unlikely.”  
    “I apologize for intruding.” The words were more for himself, starting his internal assault before his brothers could.  
    She’d made her way to the tea cup and lifted it, “Didn’t you want the tea I left for you?” Still too dark.  
    She was persistent. Sweet but persistent. He stepped closer knowing that the amount of time she had been outside now her eyes had adjusted, he’d be close enough to see and react, “I…,” Her head cocked to the side but the cup was still held steadily out, a soft smile greeting him. None of the disgust with which he’d become accustomed.  
    “I’m going to sit if you don’t mind.” She thrust the cup into his hand now that he was close enough, “I have seen far more hideous people.”  
    He took a moment to recover, “Really?”  
    “Mmm.” She settled onto the porch, dangling her feet in the grass and pulling her sweater around her. “My brother, for example.” She needed to crane her neck up to see him, “He’s my twin.”  
    “Humorous.” Some ninja he was. Unceremoniously he dropped onto the walkway with her. He should have known, should have taken more care on his previous stops here. And now, he should have left but her reaction confused him. “My appearance isn’t unsettling? You’re not going to scream?”  
    “Would you rather I scream?” She took him in again now that she didn’t need to hurt herself looking, “I’d really rather drink my tea.” He could smell oranges. The tea stung his mouth with heat and the bite of citrus. “You’ve been coming by lately.”  
    Drawing out answering, his mind kept wandering back to the fact that he should leave. “I have.” There were no lights on in the house. She had been watching and waiting for him. “No lights? Is the building even up to code?”  
    “Oh, god no. We have extension cords running all over the house.”  
    “Holes in the roof.” He’d forgotten himself, given himself away.  
    She gaped at him before giggling. “Yeah.” Pointing, “You seem to like our tree. Is it all you come for?”  
    His eyes passed over the buds on the lowest hanging branches, about to burst open. “I did not come for the tea, but it is very welcome. Thank you.”  
    “Carina.”  
    His eyebrows arched at her. She had piqued his interest again, “Thank you, Carina.” She waited, kicking the grass and sipping her own tea with a pointed look until, “I’m Donatello.”  
    “Well, Donatello, it should blossom any day now. You are more than welcome to come back. It is so beautiful when it blossoms.”  
    Donatello returned his attention to the tree as she had as well. “We used to come here when we were young with our father. Must not have been long after this place was abandoned. He’d heard locals calling it a temple but,” her laugh caught on the breeze.  
    “Abandoned, yes. Definitely not a temple.  My father bought this place before it was to be demolished and registered it as a historic landmark for the city. I think it might have been a shrine at one point. Must have been over twenty years ago that he bought it. We lived here for a small time but ended up moving around a lot.” She fiddled with handle on her mug, “We? Do you have siblings?”  
    He shut his eyes as tight as he could. Great, now he was telling this stranger information about his family. “I should...”  
    “Sorry, I shouldn't have asked,” she held up her hand. “I get it. I won't pry.”  
    He couldn't help but groan,“Yeah, thanks.” He looked her straight in the eyes, as best he could since she was drinking her tea again. “Can you explain why you are not screaming about a six foot talking turtle?”  
    Her laughter turned shaky, nervous. Tea spilled out the side of her mouth which she quickly wiped away. “Screaming really wasn’t going to help. I mean, if you heard anything you bolted. I guess…it just didn’t seem necessary. I guess I didn’t want to scare…you?” Her words spilled out and her hands moved wildly around while she spoke until she realized and sat on her free hand to stop it moving about.  
    “You didn’t want to scare a person who was breaking into your yard?”  
    “To look at a tree,” she replied with a lopsided grin. “All you did was look at the tree.” He responded with his own grin.  
    “You said your father owns the building?”  
    “Home. It’s a house.”  
    “He just abandoned it?”  
    “Oh, well, he was a doctor in the area. He did very well for himself but he changed professions suddenly and came here to open a clinic to help people. He lived here for a few years but then he needed more space. He started caring for orphans too, and there were a lot of us he took in so he needed more room. I think he assumed he would come back to live here and just kept it.” Donatello ran his finger along the rim of the tea mug.  
    “You grew up without your parents?” his voice was soft.  
    Carina stared into the tree past the branches to the dark sky. “Kind of, but I love my father and all my siblings.” An all too familiar feeling for him.  
    “What about the stories about the temple, your home? They say people were murdered here.”  
    “Oh that! Exaggerations. My father was a good doctor and most of his clients knew where he lived in case of an emergency. They are probably talking about when Mr. Chen was having a heart attack. He was delivering a meal to my dad, had a heart attack and my dad did everything he could until the ambulance showed up but I think Mr. Chen passed away. I am sure rumors started from what little everyone in the neighborhood knew and it blew out of proportion.” Both fell into a calm silence for a couple minutes. Donatello continued to track his finger along the rim of the mug or he would look up into the night sky but was not sure what he was looking for and he would repeat the process over again. Carina bit the edge of her mug before savoring the last of her tea. She could just make out what he was doing while she looked up to the tree branches. Swaying in the breeze it appeared as if the tree were dancing.  
    Donatello's mind raced with questions. As always, endless questions. One wormed it’s way to the front of the line, “You mentioned a brother?”  
    “My twin. Yes.” Worry creased his brow, “Don’t worry he’s not home. Even if he was he wouldn’t do a thing to you.”  
    He twitched a little. “I should probably head home.” He wasn't lying, Leo probably wanted to go on patrol soon. He would be arriving empty handed but it was unlikely his brothers would take notice.  
    Her eyes turned down to the grass. “Ah, yea.” Clearly disappointed and even some sadness in her voice. “You are welcome back.” He handed his mug to her and smiled. “And I won't tell anyone about you. Promise.”  
    “Thanks.” Donatello heard movement inside the house and turned to look. Carina turned too and saw her brother switch on a work light in the kitchen. Sliding the door open, Chris leaned against the frame, his cell phone's screen lighting his face.  
    “Another lonely night waiting for your ghost?” Chris laughed. “At least the stove is getting used.”  
    “Very funny.” she stood to go back inside.  
    A picture was the only message on his screen; Carina and the giant turtle. Hopefully their father would have some advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See everyone next Monday for another update. If you enjoy please like or comment.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No real notes. Fluff ahead.

    For all Mikey hated how depressing the news was he still watched it every night. Years ago it had been to hear the stories loosely based on their fights with the Foot Clan or the Purple Dragons. As Don called it, their glory days. Then it was the Nightwatcher. Vicariously reliving his former glory until their recent run in at Winters’ Corp. After that they all kept their eyes on the news for anything that might indicate Foot Clan activity. Nothing ever jumped out.   
    “The newest threat or the newest vigilantes?” A female news anchor’s crisp words caught all their attention. “The Ghouls have hit back at crime in Chinatown leaving residents confused. No eyewitnesses have come forward but the men, identified as part of the Italian Vizioso crime syndicate, claimed four members of the Ghouls, wearing studded masks featuring warped versions of facial features attacked them after they had robbed a nearby restaurant. One suffered a broken jaw but is expected to make a full recovery. The owners of the restaurant declined to comment, as did others in the community prompting questions. Are the Ghouls aiding the citizens of New York or are they carving out their own territory, readying themselves to start a new gang turf war.”   
    “Brings back memories,” Raphael rustled Mikey’s shoulder. Diversion enough to steal a handful of popcorn.   
    Leo snatched the popcorn Raph threw up in the air, “Nightmares. It brings back nightmares. First Nightwatcher, now this.” He wasn’t ready for another gang to fight. Vizioso and the Purple Dragons were enough. Ceaseless too. Every day there were more of them coming out of the shadows. As all of the current gang wars unfolded the Foot Clan had been silent.   
    “Told you, Leo, crime don’t wait for us to get there.”   
    “Eloquent, Raph. Do we need to have this conversation again?” Leo looked at the time on the television and back at the bag Donatello was tightening. “Where are you going?”   
    “The junkyard.”   
    The weather report was on, meteorologist out on the plaza in the full sunlight. “It’s still light out.”   
    “Yes.” Bag ready, Don drained the remnants of coffee, “Without the van it will be dusk by the time I get there. And the staff change will happen when I get there so I will have a good window to find the parts I need and be back before we go on patrol.”   
    “Don, the last thing we need is to be spotted. We got lucky with Winters…”   
    “Lucky that a man died and therefore can’t identify us?” He rinsed the mug in the sink and dropping it. The mug clinked, he would have checked if it fixed but Leo took precedence.   
    “No.”   
    “Leo, of people that need to be lectured is it really Don?” Raph jabbed his thumb at the microwave. Left open, cheese dripped on the turntable and out the door. Layers burnt on the bottom and still gooey on top, while Mikey stuffed handfuls of popcorn in his mouth, bits and pieces falling on the floor around him.    
    Exasperated, “I am leaving. Unless you don’t want the van to be operational?” Grabbing a box he headed to the stairs, “Or does anyone want to come help?” The weather report had ended and a commercial break blared from the living room area. “Didn’t think so.”   
    “Be careful.” Leo called as the door closed on his brother’s back.   
    Raphael laid back on the couch, propping his feet on the back right next to Leo’s head. “You do realize him and Mike left this place during the day a lot while you were gone. I mean, Mike did have that party business set up.” Toes wiggling right next to his face, just shy of touching him made Leo test all his nerves not to hit his brother. 

 

* * *

 

    A friend of Carina's worked at the closest hospital and every time they met for coffee complained that there were never enough doctors, especially in the ER, with the rise in gang related injuries. This immediately led to Carina questioning why she took the shift. Years had passed since her last shifts in an ER. Long, grueling hours with little time for a lunch break. Constant running from room to room or triage unit to triage unit. The local gang, Purple Dragons, had really taken this part of the city over and with that gun shot wounds and various blunt force trauma were the main injuries treated during her shift.   
    She grabbed her hair tie, yanking it hard. By the time she walked in the door it was far past sunset, the few stars able to be seen in the city glittered overhead. A mere shadow of what she was used to seeing. Her stomach made a deep growl. All she did now was pray her brother left her some dinner. She flipped the light switch just inside the door. Chris had taken the day off of work, convinced Casey to come over and texted a picture of the kitchen lights working mid afternoon. No matter the level of exhaustion, she still appreciated the luxury of having electricity again.  
    A note sat on the counter.  
    Rice bowl in the fridge. Get sleep.  
    Some days she swore she had the best brother ever.  
    A few minutes later, steaming rice and vegetables covered in teriyaki sauce dinged in the microwave and her tea was just finishing brewing. Her scrubs were dirty and smelly from the shift. She’d had to help with a belligerently drunk man on to a stretcher and changing was a high priority because even she couldn’t really stand the stench now. Not as important as eating. She wedged her foot into the door for the garden and slid it open. Chopsticks in her mouth, bowl of food in one hand and two tea cups clanging together precariously as she shimmied out the door. She’d prepared tea every night since her last encounter, all of a few days prior. To her brother, it was just a waste of tea.    
    Donatello propped the box on his shoulder. He made the leap from the dumpster to the gate on the first try though less stealthily than he had anticipated. Carina was mid-shoveling rice in her mouth as he clattered loudly on the other side of the gate.   
    Swallowing quickly, “I thought you came from the sewer last time.” A part of her looked defeated already as she tried to reconcile her memory with what had just happened.   
    “I did,” he consoled. “Box wouldn’t fit through the entrance.” Tea steamed next to her from two mugs. “I did not expect you to still put tea out for me.”   
    Folding a leg under her, “A girl can hold out hope.” A few more mouthfuls of food later, “Excuse me, I had a late shift.” He’d dropped the box between them to retrieve the tea.  “I thought maybe I had scared you away.”   
    The buds were bursting, a few even starting to unfurl themselves. Steam warmed his face more than was particularly comfortable in the warm spring night. “Yes. You are quite intimidating.” He finally let out a small chuckle, warming her heart. Pointing up into the tree, “The blossoms are opening though. I didn’t want to miss it.”   
    “Mmm, yes. Priorities.” She paused for a moment and noticed he was right, the cherry blossoms were opening finally. Within a few days they would all be open. “So, if I may be so bold as to ask; where is it you go that my house is conveniently on the way?”   
    “Junkyard.”  
    She cringed, “Oh. Ok, I didn’t think that through.” Carina threw her chopsticks into the bowl, even throwing the bowl off to the side, empty, and rubbing her face to attempt to wash the embarrassment away.   
    “It’s ok. I am not ashamed. Works out well for us.”   He let out a few breaths. Leo stuck in the back of his mind his entire trip. He should have been home already and wasn’t. He was stalling. Stalling someplace he shouldn’t have returned to in the first place.   
    Carina tried to regain her composure. Static bags topped the box. Clearing those she found heavy car parts below. “This is quite the assortment.” She held up several parts.   
    “New valves. There’s a new engine control unit because I think the other one got damaged. There’s some other parts in there too.” Her hands circled around, expecting more. “I am repairing the engine on our van.” Setting them off to the side, she held up a radio next. “Salvage for parts.” Static bags were lined up along the edge of the box. She held several up. “Various projects. We have some old gaming cabinets, I want to upgrade one to work better. Also, I always keep spare parts on hand for new builds or repairs.” He was starting to clip his answers short. Preferring the tea to words as Leo continued to nag him in his mind.  
    Leaning across the box, she tried to get a good look at his face, her stench far from her mind. Donatello wrinkled his nose at her. “Something bothering you?” Tactful words eluded him, making her giggle. “Besides how I smell.”   
    He needed more distraction, “I see the electricity is working again.”   
    Fine. She’d table that last question, “Yes. I am over the moon about that.” She started stacking his parts back in the box. His struggles were coming to the surface. She saw it with patients sometimes. They’d only been back in New York a short time and most patients she only saw once, some she’d seen a few times for followups but most saw her around the neighborhood. A lot. Eating out at the local restaurants and she’d already become a part of the community. That was enough to let them open up to her. It just took patience.   
    “Have you heard about the Ghouls?”   
    Her tea had cooled to the point she could take a few sips, “I have. They are one of many in gangs in the area. Gang violence has kept me rather busy since moving here.”  
    “Are those scrubs? Are you a nurse?”  
    “Doctor.”  
    “That’s very impressive.”   
    “If you say for a girl I will hit you. Even if you carry a weapon.” Donatello pulled the staff from his belt, laying it in the grass. Pushing the bo around with his foot he waited. “Oh. Are you worrying about the safety of the strange girl you met a few days ago?” Not even a hint of a smile. “No. And this isn’t about the Ghouls either.”   
    Donatello sought some solace in the buds, branches winding about the above them creating thousands of intertwining paths. “No, not really. Although,” he made eye contact for the first time since he’d started hearing Leo again. Oblivious to the incredible paths the branches took she’d been waiting for him.   
    “I knew the risks when I opened a clinic here. But thank you.” Flexing, she showcased her muscles hidden under the baggy sleeve of her scrubs and undershirt. “I can obviously take care of myself.”   
    “I see that.” Leo faded from his mind. Remembering the tea, he inhaled the citrus aroma. “You have a practice? Seems a little late for your practice to have been open.”   
    “Ah, ha. Yeah, I have a friend at the hospital a couple blocks over and they needed help in the ER so I took a shift. Alice had the clinic by herself today but we have shorter hours on the weekends.” Carina wrinkled her nose, reminded of how she reeked. “Excuse the smell, there was a gin-soaked guy that came in tonight. And I don’t mean gin-soaked like drunk, which he was, but he was literally soaked in alcohol after a massive bar fight or something. Oh, and there’s probably blood on me.”   
    Pungent odors had little effect on him anymore after growing up in the sewers and spending time at the city dump, rummaging through dumpsters, and similar activities. “You appear to be young to own a practice.”   
    “Thank you? I think.” As he scrambled to find a way to dig himself out of the hole he was in she broke with laughter. “I know what you mean. Yes, I am. Technically, I don’t own the practice. It’s…well, it’s complicated. It’s kind of my dad’s old practice. But in this city there is such a shortage of doctors and so many people in the lower income areas that do not regularly see a doctor that it was…needed here.”   
    He’d forgotten how kind many people could be, he and his brothers tended to be surrounded by the worst parts of society. At a loss for anything else to say, “That’s…that’s amazing.”   
    “What about you?” The words left her mouth before she realized it. “Oh, I…am an idiot.” She covered her face. Twice in a the conversation she’d put her foot in her mouth. “I shouldn’t be allowed around people after a shift…or ever. I am sorry, that was completely…maybe I should just…”   
    Donatello reached out, grazing her arm but retracted quickly. A small, hollow laugh escaped him, “I actually have a job. Nothing as important as running a clinic.” Be it sadness or regret, she could feel his mood shift. “I work as an IT phone technician. And a drop box at a nearby repair shop, fixing small electronics. ”   
    He missed her smirk. The warmth of her touch was what tore his gaze from the grass, “Something tells me IT phone technicians don’t generally carry around a weapon.  Maybe they should.” Moving the mugs out of her way, Carina slid closer, “I would guess you protect people. Seems like a pretty important job.” Sensing his compounding worries, “Sounds like my father. I mean he was a genetic engineer working for the government. Great pay, pension, writing papers about this field that he loved but what made him happiest was when he left and decided to open a small clinic and help people. He told me once that it was all he ever really wanted to do, help people. He thought he could do that with genetic engineering and he couldn't. But when he walked into his clinic and the family that owns the ramen shop nearby needed help because their grandmother had fallen and broken her hip, that was when he felt truly happy. You know, not because she was hurt but because he could go there and help. Bring her to the hospital and help treat her. When other doctors stopped making house calls he would go because it was too hard for the family to try to bring her to him.” Carina closed her eyes, remembering how happy her father would be telling stories about his day. All the kids would ask how the Chen's who owned the supermarket were doing as if they all knew something had happened to bring them to their father. Her legs swung, barely grazing the grass below.   
    “Your father was a genetic engineer?” Like that all his worries evaporated. “Any topics I would know?”   
    Using the toe of her shoe, she drew circles in the grass. “Topics? I don’t know. I mean his papers are nearly thirty years old now. Have you read any of the journals from the teams at Boston University?”   
    “Let’s see,” absently he used his foot to kick the bo up, tossing it between his hands or twirling it as he listed, “There were papers from Dr. Amadi, Drs. El-Alfy, that was not that long ago though.” The bo bounced on the grass with a light thud then spun again, “ Dr. Utami, Dr. Hariyanto and Dr. Kurosawa, though he left,” his words fell away as the door slid open.   
    “Dad has a fanboy? Surprise, surprise.” Folding his arms, Chris glared from the doorway, his phone screen illuminating his shirt and face. “And you found your ghost.”   
    “Be nice.” Carina stacked the dirty dishes. “Donatello, my brother Chris.”   
    Keeping his glare steady, Chris walked the few paces to his sister and rapped her on the head with his phone. “You should be sleeping.”  
    “Ow,” she retaliated with a punch straight into his thigh, “you should be too. Take the dishes. And I said be nice.”   
    “Genetic aberration. Figures.” Carina thrust the dishes in his arms, no guilt seeing as he was not trying to hide his comment. “Bed. Soon.” She was already waving him away. “Whatever. I’ll be inside. With the door open.” She swung again but Chris expected it and jumped back, “You need a chaperone.”   
    True to his word, Chris left the door open as he retreated inside. “Ignore him.” Carina huffed. Reluctant, she got up and closed the door after Chris. “He’s just overprotective.”   
    Donatello rested his head against the bo, “Some ninja I am.” Tucking hands under her arms, Carina shuffled back, sitting close. “I named your father?” He’d not paid attention to her moving. Now he could feel her quiver in the breeze. The door opened further, a folded blanket thrown at Carina’s back. “Dr. Hideki Kurosawa? That’s your father?” Wrapping the blanket around herself, Carina nodded. “His work on gene splicing and early genetic coding were crucial to how genetic engineering has progressed. He perfected many of the techniques used in genetic modification of embryos today. I have literally read all of his papers on the subjects of gene coding, splicing techniques, and his theories on how to alter DNA in favor of traits was particularly engrossing.”  
    “You really have read his papers.” She was impressed. They were not easy papers to read, even if one was in the field of genetics. “Was is relevant?”  
    “Less than I had hoped.” Carina’s head began to loll forward, her face dreamy. Tightening the blanket, he could feel her torn desire for more from him and sleep. “Do you publish?” She nodded wearily. He thought quickly, “Dr. C. A. Kurosawa.” She replied with a toothy smile while swaying, guilt ate at him for keeping her awake. “I should head home. I am already late.”   
    Disappointment won over her exhaustion as she shed the blanket and ran inside, “Wait.” His eyes drifted closed. Realization dawned that he finally felt some ease. Leo’s stress, his own stress had been compounding on their entire family. It would soon spill out onto their friends. Here he felt a respite from that. Bile mixed with the dull tang of dried blood, smells reminiscent of battles forced his eyes open. Not a battle, instead Carina had returned and in closer proximity than he’d anticipated. She thrust a paper in his face, shaking either from her fatigue or nerves. “If you want to stop by and not just hang out with my charming brother, here is my work schedule for the next week.” He accepted the small paper, definitely the hasty handwriting of a doctor. She bent forward, her hair brushing his hands on the bo, “I promise you have nothing to worry about from us. We won’t tell anyone about you.” She bid him a drowsy goodnight at the door and slipped inside.  
      
      
  


* * *

 

    Chris lounged on their couch with every light on in their main room to help keep him awake. His sister had run in for a second and grabbed the first paper and pen she could find and was scribbling, paying zero attention to him. She didn’t even notice his phone vibrate with a text.   
   _Trust your sister. She would tell you she can take care of herself._  
    Chris added another photo to his message, Carina sitting under the cherry tree with Donatello.  
   _She is going to get far too attached to her new pet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Next week starts the real action! Super excited! Please like / comment if you enjoyed. Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Violent chapter. There are mentions of blood, various weapons used, etc. (I said this was going to start going somewhere, i swear there is actual plot here)

    April’s text had caught him off guard. They’d had a night out planned, which he’d hoped would rapidly turn into a night in with pizza or Chinese food and a movie on the couch. April had been working overtime with a new client, hunting down something or another. She would probably be heading out of the country again soon and who knew how long she would be gone. Between the long meetings and the time she took to train with Splinter the time they spent together was dwindling even though they lived together.   
    Swinging his bat around he worked at loosening up his shoulders. He was more stiff than he expected after all the work in Chris and Carina’s house the last several days. But he could see the lights from his vantage point on the roof down the street. He could also see Chris walking into the clinic. She had picked a hell of a place being on the edge of Chinatown where the gang wars were the worst. Daily events with the Purple Dragons kept him on edge enough and she was right in the middle of it.   
    Casey started walking along the rooftop, skipping over the small gap to the next one. He knew that the turtles were patrolling but they could spend all their time here and never put a dent in the Purple Dragons. Their hold was too strong. He knew just how strong their hold was, they tried to recruit him. His dad had been a fairly high ranking member.   
    The further he walked down the block the crowds of people dissipated, the lights too. Restaurants gave way to stores then to a small factory and warehouse section of the town. Less tourists walked this far down and locals were generally only seen here during the day. Here he could hear a scuffle turn more violent. Three Purple Dragon members, known by their gaudy jackets with an embroidered dragon on the back, were initiating a new member. A kid. Even from the roof Casey could tell that the kid was in high school. Scrawny compared to the hulking masses behind him.       
    They all jeered as the kid slammed his fist into the man’s face. Knuckles bleeding or blood from the old man, Casey wasn’t sure. He was already hustling down the fire escape. He knew his first strike would take his advantage. With his baseball bat or hockey sticks he would be lucky to get one or two hits in before they retaliated. He needed to act fast. The poor man was already limp against the steel rolling door. Reverberating with each strike as he smashed into it. Every second dragged and he couldn’t move fast enough across the street. Another punch landed. And another. Another. Even as his bat crushed into the closest Dragon’s knee another strike hit the man. The momentary shock of his arrival and attack only gave Casey a split second reprieve. He didn’t have enough time for another blow only time to lift his bat to guard his face.   
    One Dragon beat on the bat hard enough that his own arms gave way and the bat slammed into his own face. Balance shot, Casey felt the one behind, and a fist slam into his ribs. Rage took hold of Casey. He lashed out with the bat, hitting out fast and hard. Trying to get the Dragon’s to back off some distance so he could reach for his hockey stick.   
    His attack had only one positive effect, the kid had stopped punching the old man. His associates shouted at the kid but Casey couldn’t hear them too well. Stars filled his vision and his ears rung. An unknown disadvantage to his metal hockey mask. Blood poured from some wound on his face, into his mouth. He stumbled a step grasping for his hockey stick. He’d helped beat off Foot soldiers, how were a couple low level Purple Dragon’s giving him such a problem? Most thugs ran when someone showed up ready to take them on. Put up some small semblance of a fight then ran.   
    “Hockey stick? If it isn’t the little Jones.” Casey swiped at the two Dragon’s in front of him. One grabbed hold of the stick. He wasn’t trying to rip it from Casey’s hands but hold him in place. The other came at Casey and his blind side, gripping a hunting knife tightly. He couldn’t get the stick free and let it loose and he was no good at standing still. Casey lunged away, just enough movement to avoid being stabbed.   
    “I remember your dad.” The third Dragon. He’d stepped back into shadows, Casey had forgotten about him. Steel pipe in hand he landed his own hit on Casey’s back, another to his shoulder. Casey landed face first on the sidewalk expecting another blow but none came. “New target. Shoot him.” Casey ripped his mask off, sweat and blood drenched his face. Through the stars he could see the trembling barrel of the gun. Pointing at him.   
    “You don’t…” Casey’s ribs pierced with each cough. “Don’t…,” the kid was terrified. He’d clearly never shot someone. He looked to his superiors for help. How to pull the trigger at a person. A person was a completely different thing than cans or whatever junk they could find in alleys. The only response the kid got was more taunts.   
    Then, the Dragon to his right convulsed and dropped to the ground. What dropped him was unclear in the literal sense. Casey couldn’t really make out what was behind the Dragon. Glass rained on the pavement as the street light went out. They all needed to rely on the glowing signs from up the street. “These streets are ours.” The voice was distorted, played through a speaker. Male or female, Casey couldn’t tell.   
    A different voice spoke from the dark, similar distortions but distinctly different, “We told you what would happen if you recruited here again.” The only feature Casey could make out was a smile, no a mouth. The teeth bared farther than was natural. Lips held back. Everything around it was black. Casey’s strength waned and he fell forward again, rolling to his back and watching as the other two Dragon’s were not given the time to attack. Two black figures crushed into the Dragon’s. Shoulders dug into their torsos, Casey could hear fast blows to their ribs and chests. Knives and guns clattering to the ground as hands shattered when they were driven into the steel door. The accompanying screams piercing the night. As slow as the punches seem to have flown when Casey was entering the battle everything moved so fast Casey could only barely register a flurry of punches. Casey tried to focus, the closer Ghoul held the Dragon into the door and now he could see that the Dragon kicked wildly, his feet off the ground. Electricity crackled the air. Both Draon’s fell to the ground.    
    The kid had frozen in place with the gun still trained on Casey. A black glove closed around the gun, gently twisting it from his grasp, “Go home to your oba-chan.” The kid didn’t hesitate, scurrying from them. Casey strained to see his saviors. All that remained of the fight was him and the old man against the steel door.

 

* * *

 

    Their hoods fell back once up on the roof. One pulled a phone from their pocket, taking in the surrounding storefronts and restaurants before selecting one. There was little to worry about, the three Purple Dragon’s were unconscious and not about to wake up in the next few minutes.  Dialing a phone number, the Ghoul waited as the line rung while the other broke needles, stowing the sedatives in a bag. A woman rushed to the counter visible in the window of the tempura restaurant.   
    “Hello, Tempura Hachimaki,” the woman readied a pen and pad.   
    “Help, please help. I heard gun shots and screaming. I think someone is hurt outside. I am working in the warehouse near your shop. Please get help. Please,” they continued to plead as the woman checked through the window around the street. “Get a doctor, oh god, I can hear someone outside. They’re hurt. Please hurry.” Hanging up they went back to hauling their three captives to the police station.

 

* * *

 

 

    Leo had them scouting Little Italy. The main Italian mob, led by Don Vizioso, had been increasing their presence in the last several months. They’d stayed off their radar for the most part. Until recently the Vizioso family had been loan sharks and the only interaction any of the turtles had had was when they’d beat someone to get their money returned. Donatello had found that their new venture, stealing, smuggling and sellling drugs, had become much more lucrative and this had gained the attention of the Purple Dragon. The Dragons had claimed dominion over selling certain drugs. Donatello’s best estimation was that the Dragon’s were initiating the gang war because of the new found competition.   
    “I’m bored,” Mikey droned, watching a violinist play for Don Vizioso in his restaurant for all the world to see. “He’s not doing anything but eat.”   
    “Stake outs are rarely fun,” Leo scanned the street again. “Anything on your side, Raph? Don?”   
    Don nodded at Raph, a small dish sitting next to him he scanned various frequencies of radio and checked cellular activity off the closest cell tower. “Nothing.” Doatello’s cell vibrated in his bag, rattling everything around and becoming increasingly less stealthy as the seconds dragged on. Raphael slapped his brother’s hand and dug fast, finding and answering. “What, Case?” There were really only two people who could call.   
    “It’s April, I think you guys should come by. Something happened to Casey.”   
    “Sorry, April. Yeah, we’ll be there.” Raph hung up, tossing the phone back at Donatello.   
    “Leo’s not going to want to leave.” Don said, his screen still not showing anything helpful to them.   
    “This is pointless. They ain’t doing nothing and there is nothing tying them to the Foot. It’s a waste.” Raphael knelt with his brother as he filled the bag again. Donatello sighed, waiting for Raph to keep going on another of his Leo rants. He’d tapered off after Leo returned. As the weeks turned to months Raph’s frustrations returned in force with Leo as their leader. “B’sides, something happened to Casey.”   
    “Of course.” Donatello grumbled.

* * *

 

 

    Convincing Leo to leave the stake out proved to be harder than Raphael had thought. Leo dug in, insisting that the lead with Vizioso was solid and they needed to wait it out. To get them out of Little Italy Raphael stole Donatello’s phone and called April again to confirm that she needed them. Enthusiastic to leave, Mikey led the way to April and Casey’s apartment, singing the entire way.   
    “What was so important you had to drag us from our incredibly fruitful stake out?” Raph ducked in through window from the fire escape. “What happened to you?” Casey sat shirtless on the couch, purple welts already deepening on his back. Returning from the kitchen, April brought a package of frozen peas, slapping it on the worst of the bruises as hard as she could. The pain was too much for Casey to feel embarrassed. He feigned laughter and showed off the bruising and cut along his nose.   
    “Good question, Jones. What happened?” April growled.   
    Stealing the peas from April, Casey settled the bag over his face, “I got ambushed by Dragons.”   
    Surveying the damage, which was by far more than they’d ever seen on Casey, Leo asked, “Dragons did this? That’s not like them.”   
    “Must have been higher up than the ones we normally run into. They were recruiting.” Casey’s head throbbed even under the influence of pain relievers.   
    The living room was littered with Casey’s mask, shirt, jacket and bag of hockey sticks. Thrown about in a fit of rage when he’d gotten home, either by April or himself.   
    “You got lucky,” Don lifted Casey’s arm, touching the bruises the trailed along his ribs. “Did you get to the hospital? You know I’m not…”  
    “Yeah, been to the emergency room. Nothing’s broken. Probably no concussion, just going back to see a friend tomorrow to check again.” Removing the peas, Casey prodded the bridge of his nose. April quickly slapped his hand away before he tore open the wound again.   
    Raph bounced on the balls of his feet, itching to leave again. “Where? How many?”   
    “They were taken care of. That’s why I wanted you guys here.” Casey replaced the peas. The sudden incredulous sounds irked him, “Not me. Ghouls.” He was happy to have their attention, less happy that they were not surprised. “These guys mean business.”  
    “The Dragons or the Ghouls?” Leo scoffed, street gangs were a bane and required their attention but his focus was still on the bigger threat looming over them.  
    “Leo, they didn’t just scare off the Dragons. They dragged ‘em off somewhere.” Easing back, Casey let the bag of peas block out the lights. “Not sure if to the cops or a back alley somewhere.”  
    “Did you get a good look at them?” Don asked. “You’re the first eye witness, period.”   
    April checked under the bag, making sure Casey hadn’t fallen asleep. Every night she worried over him going out, praying that this would never be the result. “First one that will admit to seeing them.”   
    “No. Too dark and I already took the hit in the mask.” He threw the bag at April as she fussed over him. “I could only see one of ‘em and only part of their mask. Teeth.”   
    “Man? Woman?” Leo expected more. The sightings had been going on for months now and there was so little information. Casey shook his head.   
    “They had speakers in their masks. Their voices sounded strange.”   
    “Voice changer? Interesting.” Donatello pulled out the laptop, taking notes.   
    “I think they’re ninjas.” Casey pressed his fingers under his eyes, feeling how swollen it was already. “Or something.”   
    “What, like Foot?” Raph felt a rush of adrenaline.   
    “I…I don’t know. They were fast, they were good. They were nothing like the Dragons. Took out the street light before they really attacked. Strong too. One of ‘em had one of the Dragon’s up off the ground.” Casey replayed the incident again, trying to remember more. Useless. There wasn’t more to remember. Except the kid. “They let the kid go. Told him to go home.”

* * *

 

 

    Receiving the all clear signal before midnight was a welcome surprise. Karai gathered her team where Leonardo had stood less than an hour before. He’d stood just at the edge looking down on to Vizioso’s restaurant. They were not looking for her. She’d kept the Foot Clan quiet, refusing to take any more jobs after the Winters’ fiasco. The name of the Foot Clan would not suffer any further under her.   
    No pedestrians had passed for minutes. Vizioso continued his gluttonous evening in plain sight. Karai simply pointed at the restaurant below and her squad disappeared into the night. She took her own leap off the rooftop, landing on the street light. By the time she landed on the sidewalk, at the door of the restaurant, the street lights were extinguished and the power in the restaurant flickered ominously. Then black.   
    Vizioso shouted at every thing. Candles providing the only light in the dining room, cast long shadows dancing along the wall. Muzzle blasts provided bursts of light, blinding Vizioso.   
    “Don Vizioso.” Karai’s delicate voice called out in a brief moment of calm. Two of her soldiers cracked glow sticks, scattering them around the room. Vizioso’s men unconscious around the room. “You have been raiding the Purple Dragon’s warehouses.”   
    “So…so what if I have? Those punks have been horning in my space. This is mine! They think that they can keep a warehouse,” Karai’s hand stayed her general from relieving Vizioso of his head. “Hey.”   
    Karai took the seat across from Vizioso. She rarely displayed casualness, particularly in front of her men. “What have you sold?” Sweat dripped down Vizioso’s face soaking into his shirt and tie. “Your men were less than helpful before they died.”   
    “What is it you’re looking for? I can cut you a great deal.”   
    “Everything from the warehouse.”   
    “I’m told there was some high end, stolen, medical equipment. It might just pay for the men and cars I lost last week.”   
    “It is not for sale.” Karai looped her foot around the leg of Vizioso’s chair, inching him closer to her. Vizioso started to panic as the sword pierced his skin. “I will ask one,” closer, “more,” closer, “time.”   
    “We got a construction job down on Worth. The machines’s all there.”   
    “And our pharmaceuticals?”   
    “That was high end goods, lady. We sold that right away.”   
    Karai ground her teeth. Pathetic. She clicked her tongue. It was maddening. Standing, she surveyed the room. Most of her soldiers took their sign, heading out and toward Worth Street. Her General, Shibata, kept his sword steady at Vizioso’s neck. She relented, leaving Vizioso to call his cleaners.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Assuming all keeps going well next chapter will be up next Monday! Please like / comment.


	7. Chapter 7

    Carina came running from bathroom, wet hair dripping down her back making her shiver.  She was lucky to be half dressed in her scrubs and undershirt. Someone was pounding on her door and before she was out the door for work. Chris would have answered the door except he’d hidden in the garden with his coffee and phone and had been working for a few hours already as other markets opened and closed.   
    Casey pounded the door again as she looked through the peephole. “Lord,” she threw the door open. “What is wrong with you? Why would you be here before seven…what the hell happened to you?” Carina dragged Casey in the door and slammed it shut again.   
    “Good morning to you too.” He hadn’t actually slept the night before, even with the pain meds from the hospital. April worried over him each time he tossed so he tried to stop until she was snoring. He left the apartment before April was even up work. “I was hoping you could take a look.”  
    “I’m looking.” Shit. The angry mom face was out. He’d known that look even when she was ten. He didn’t need to wait long for, “What the hell happened to you?” and she threw him into the closest stool, fingers poking at the bright purple and blue blotches under his eyes. His nose had swollen a bit. She pushed at it, seeming satisfied after a moment. “Well?”  
    “It was nothing.” She’d always been stern, he didn’t think she’d hurt him on top of his current injuries. She did. A strong pinch on his arm, which she held and started to twist until he said, “Purple Dragons! Ok, Purple Dragons. I was hanging around and some guy was getting beat to a pulp by some punks and stop.” She released his arm in a huff. “You’re worse than April.”   
    “I can’t imagine what she did to you.” She ran out of the room to grab her shirt and bag. A small light shone in his eyes. Not that he could move his head, she kept it firmly in place. “Did you hit your head?” He mumbled a yes and she still twisted his head sharply to the side to check for bumps and other bruising. “Idiot.” Letting go of his jaw hurt more than when she’d held it in place.   
    She stared at him intently. No words, no questions. He knew what question there was but words were not coming to his head. Taking all his willpower he said, “Back.” He started to lift his shirt when she hoisted it up faster.   
    “You were trying to get killed. My god!” She screeched directly in his ear. She wanted to make sure he didn’t forget. “Did you get x-rays done or should I bring you to the clinic and let Alice unleash on you?”  
    “Got x-rays, they were fine. No broken bones.”  
    “Yet,” she ground out.   
    “Come on,” Casey clasped his hands around hers, “April’s gonna lock me in the apartment. She’ll put bars on the windows.”   
    “She should!”   
    The commotion in the kitchen could not be ignored as it was interrupting Chris’ train of thought. He’d run out of coffee, enough of an excuse to see who his sister was shouting at so early. As he closed on the door he could hear Casey plead, “Come on. I can do manual labor.”   
    “Good idea. That will heal that right up,” Chris tapped his watch, Carina had a delivery arriving soon and he did not want her to be late. Alice would place sole blame on him. Didn’t matter if his sister could get her own butt to work on time.   
    “Please?”   
    Chris dropped his mug in the sink. He was making a show of grabbing his sunglasses and shoes. He would leave her here in the house and just wait at the clinic if he had to. She knew he would. “Fine.” Carina griped and grabbed her bag. “I’ll check on you at lunch. Don’t…just don’t hurt yourself more. And call your girlfriend before she hunts me down.”   
    Casey beamed at her, “She wouldn’t do that. Speak of the devil.” His phone blared at them, “Hey!” Neither had ever seen Casey so enthusiastic, even if forced. “No, I’m getting checked out again. Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”   
    “That guy is going to die one way or another.” Chris pushed his sister out the door as Casey grappled at explaining what his plans were for the day.

 

* * *

 

    The end of his shift was consistently the most tedious. He was on speaker phone while the person on the other end searched the back of their computer for the corresponding ports for the peripherals.   
    “What color is the keyboard cord connector?” He fully understood feeling like a drone.   
    “Purple.” Don chuckled to himself. Then all the cords could be heard falling onto the desk, again. He would be near square one. Again. He just needed to make it through this call then he could disconnect. “Wait, it might have been blue.”  
    The man muttered incoherently, searching through the cords again. Don could only imagine the mess in front of this person, a familiar sight with a few of his projects but not with this kind of incompetence. He shifted to a monitor as he waited. His search for clinics in Chinatown was quick. The article was dated a couple months ago, nothing more than a tiny couple of paragraphs at the end of a Lifestyle section.   
   _New Low Cost Clinic to Serve Chinatown_   
    None of her merits were listed, not that he expected that with the size of the article. Another screen displayed old medical journals. Early in the day he’d reread one of her last papers concerning genetic mapping. Her theories were relatively controversial but ultimately never proven considering the ethical debate surrounding genetic engineering. She’d seemed to have dropped off the map after that paper. At least in the United States. Digging worldwide news he found few articles from the World Health Organization referencing Dr. Carina Atwell and Dr. Alice Reaser. He was sure it was her, even with the lack of pictures. There was just a mention about vaccinations in Pakistan and Afganistan linking to an article on the WHO website.   
    “Purple, ok. The purple one is connected to the keyboard.”   
    “There should be a purple port on the back of the computer, with a small picture of a keyboard. You can plug it in there.”   
    “I think it’s a picture of a mouse.”   
    Hours later, or in reality a half hour later, Donatello was off the phone and done with work for the day. Ready to relax before they were out the door, he tossed the headset on his keyboard, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. Her schedule stood up in his keyboard. Not that he should return, even to see the blossoms. Blossoms which should be in full bloom. But he wanted to return. For the cherry blossoms, naturally. He could see them from either of the neighboring roof tops.  
    “What’cha working on?” Most of the monitors were blank, just a few articles up, he still minimized the medical journals. Leo had a tendency to worry when he read too many medical journals.   
    Donatello grabbed his cup, shaking it to see if there were any remnants of soda or even ice left. “Nothing, just finished up.” Leonardo hadn’t seen his brother much in the last day. Not a new occurrence, but he realized after the junk yard debate he should try catch up more with Don. Donatello waited in the chair, expecting some kind of question or request, the general reason any of his brothers wandered into this room. “Did you need something?”  
    “No. No, I was just…coming to…talk?”   
    “Oh.” Don sat back in his chair. Leo, though, couldn’t find something to say to Don and the silence stretched uncomfortably.   
    “Wanna go beat Mike at his latest game?” Leo offered, thankful he could break the uncomfortable lull. Something about talking with Donatello did not seem to come easily to Leo. Agreeing, Don let out a breath he’d been holding in and began shutting off monitors as he walked the length of the room. Leo slid his arm around Don’s shoulders as they moved into the living room.   
    Repeated slams of the refrigerator door shook the power cords overhead. Mikey kept opening the door again, griping until he noticed his brothers. “Don! The fridge broke!”   
    “I’m taking bets on if Mike did it.” Raph watched from the table as the light flicked on inside the fridge.   
    Leo rushed Mikey, “Let Don look.”   
    “But the ice cream,” Mike whimpered.   
    Donatello, accepting he wouldn’t get a break, pushed the fridge away from the wall. “Is it still cold inside?”   
    “Who knows. Mikey’s been checking it for ten minutes.”   
    “Great.” Don grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week. Getting back in the swing of things post convention weekend and prepping for camp nanowrimo next month Iwhich is already next week).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short chapter this week...BUT PLOT!

    “Baxter Stockman, I thought you died in the lab explosion at TCRI.” The scientific world did not miss Baxter Stockman. This had been reiterated every time a former colleague was brought into his lab. His removal from the scientific community was not even worth mentioning in print or television, nothing on social media. When they saw him each said the same thing. And all with the same disappointed tone.   
    Lab, now that word was an exaggeration. His small den in whichever abandoned building they occupied. He rarely had a window or saw the outside world. He was lucky to know the date thanks to his computer. If he wasn’t staring at a computer screen, simulation, or lab tests it was the sea of black with the silent Foot soldiers. But still, he was free or at least more free than any scientist and doctor he beckoned for. That was something. They all started off antagonistic, quickly followed by becoming cooperative and even enthusiastic. Finally, the most annoying were silent at the end.   
    “Dr. Singh, how have you been since you were ostracized from the Army. I heard you had every government fund pulled from all your projects.” The best part of being in his position came next. Each of these colleagues, associates, formerly cutting edge scientists not having a word to say back to him. “Those who can’t do, teach. And you can’t even do that, can you?”   
    Singh had no where to go. His only exit barricaded he dared to step further into the room. He wasn’t even sure where this room, this building, was; was he even still in the same state? “Why am I here? What have you gotten mixed up in?” Accusations had been flung at Stockman before he started working for the Foot. Several colleagues calling his work unethical. Unethical, ha!  
    Stockman slid a file across the small table, his table. This was his lab, after all. Singh didn’t want any part of this and refused the folder until he realized how limited his options were. “I would read it, Singh. It’s that or them.”   
    Singh weighed the options. He was never a physical man, even with all his time at the Army bases. On the Army bases he had respect and no one on the base tended to tick him off, not when they knew his specialty. Here, there was none of that power or status. Only Stockman’s smug grin gleaming at him.   
    The file was thin. He flipped it open to a hodge podge of transcripts and notes. This was, by no means, an official hospital record. Many of the notes were similar, probably written by doctors. A few pictures were paper clipped inside the folder. An unnamed man, mid forties, of Asian ancestry, and comatose. “How long has he been in a coma?” Singh, apathetic though he might be, did value his life.   
    “Coming close to three years.” Stockman returned to his screen, allowing the other man to read.   
    “Artificial heart, interesting. Why…Stockman?”   
    “Yes?”   
    “Synthetic neural transmitters?” He flipped through the sheets, gaining speed with each page he scanned, “What is this?”   
    “I don’t understand what you mean.” Stockman rubbed at his mustache, continuing to scan a document as he listened to Singh.   
    “This looks like the research done by El-Afi’s group when I was in the Army, the transmitters.”   
    “Does it?” He pushed the monitor around, Singh’s last research paper on nanites displayed. “How did your nanites work with the synthetic transmitters in Kurosawa’s Alpha program?” No, this was his favorite part. When the man across from him loses all color.

* * *

 

    Karai stared into a blank spot in the wall. Relocation closer to Chinatown had advantages and disadvantages. Disadvantage being far too close to those turtles. Still out patrolling the city, still trying to stop what crime they come across, and becoming far too close to seeing what her Dragons were doing. Every check in with Hun had her more on edge. They should move. Further on the outskirts of the city again. Except access to medical supplies were becoming more relevant, and if Stockman was right they would need more supplies more quickly and very soon.   
    She felt Stockman hovering in the doorway, his little twitches and fidgeting not covering anything. She didn’t need her lieutenant to tell her how much he enjoyed torturing each new scientist. Stockman made a point to watch each disposal they had performed, even if he thought he was hidden in the shadows. The shadows were her domain, not his.   
    “Was he worth the trouble of capturing?”   
    Stockman rubbed his mustache again, pretending to consider her question. “He needs equipment to manufacture the nanites. There should be no interference with the mutagen in Shredder’s body.”   
    With a snap of her fingers two Foot soldiers melted out of the shadows. Baxter held his breath, his chest puffed out in mock intimidation. “Contact Mr. Alcott. Have the equipment and necessary materials brought to the nearest warehouse.” Piercing Stockman with her glare, his lungs unclenching long enough for a new breath. “If this does not work, Stockman. I will be disposing of two scientists.” A sharp wind cut at Stockman’s cheek. Seconds later he felt the twinge of the cut and drip of blood down his cheek. A Shuriken embedded in the wood of the door frame behind him. He turned back to an empty room as his stomach sank beneath him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this week! I'm working on camp nanowrimo but will still post next monday! Getting a head start on the second story arc for this! So excited!!!!!!! Please like or comment and thank you again for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

    The kitchen was finally looking like a proper kitchen. New lighting fixtures, her new stove and refrigerator, and now her new counter tops. They’d kept Casey far busier than she had ever thought, he kept offering to come by and do more. Carina insisted he’d done enough, Casey just wouldn’t hear it.  
    It did mean she could finally pull out her appliances. Her coffee maker sat next to her tea maker. The two things that got her through the day and night. Each night after work she would keep hot water around, just in case Donatello showed up. Only a few days had passed since his last visit, he had not returned and she was starting to wonder if he would. It was a selfish feeling. She knew that he may not return, he had to think of the safety of his family. But a part of her hoped each night that he might return.  
    She opened the cabinet and grabbed two mugs then searched for her tea tin. Chris had cleaned the kitchen earlier in the day. He always thought it was hilarious to put her tea on the top shelf. She tried jumping to reach the tin then resigned to climbing on the counter. She cursed Chris as she hopped down and started to make a cup of tea.  
    “I am not sure viruses could be used to target sections of DNA.” Wood clattered against wood. She turned and there he was. Setting his bo down loud enough so she could hear him.  
    “They can carry markers to cells that, after the virus attacks a cell, are programmed to target a specified section of DNA. For example, altering the genetic code of an organ to replicate healthy cells in place of the weakened ones, sick ones.” Scooping tea leaves into the steeper, her back still to do the door she allowed herself to beam into the mugs. “You read my paper.”   
    “You never did trials?” Donatello stood back from the door, apprehensive about entering her home.   
    She shook her head, “Just models. But you didn’t come here to talk about viral modification of DNA.” Her cheeks, flushed a moment before, had enough time to return to normal, or she would be relying on the darkness of the evening to hide it. “Tea?” Accepting the tea, he followed as she led the way to his bag, left where they’d sat on his last visit.   
    The sakura tree was white with blossoms. As a child, the lowest branches stood high overhead. He could never make out the details of any blossoms unless they had fallen to the grass. Now he could easily reach up and touch the delicate blossoms. He hadn’t even remembered what they really looked like. He remembered a cloud of white overhead. The flowers were so tiny, the number covering the tree was incredible. Even now, they were not all in bloom. Tiny buds mingled on the branch with flowers.  
    “I had an errand to run and this was on my way back.” Not daring to harm the tree, his fingers brushed the branch, soaking in the details he’d never noticed. “And I assumed the sakura tree was blossoming.”  
    “Priorities.” With his interest firmly on the tree, she timidly admitted, “I will have to find something else to offer to convince you to stop by after the blossoms fall. Assuming you come back next year for the blossoms at all.”  
    Still lost in thought, he answered, “The tea will suffice.”   
    “The tea. Yeah.”   
    Carina buried her face in the mug, steam causing her skin to flush again. He continued to appear engrossed in the tree, she dared change the subject, “Can I ask a question?”  
    “You have asked surprisingly few.” He chastised himself. His brothers have long accused him of ignoring them as he worked. Don tore himself from the memories and sat with Carina on the walkway.  
    “I don't mean to offend, but,” she fidgeted, “is your base genome turtle or human?”  
    “Turtle.”  
    “Ok. How did someone splice the turtle and human DNA to create a hybrid? Not that,” her face burned and now she could not hide it in twilight, “you're not, I mean you are,” she stammered and started gesturing more and more wildly, “no, you, I mean, AH!” Hot tea splashed from her mug and burned her hand.  
    “It's ok, calm down.” He laughed lightly. He took the tea mug, setting it behind her as she hissed at the burn, rubbing it,  “When we were young a mutagenic compound came into contact with human DNA before spilling on to us. The compound itself seems to have provided the catalyst for DNA mutation during replication. Have you heard of TCRI?”  
    Carina’s nose wrinkling in concentration, “They were a player in the genetic engineering world for a time. Bought up several companies that also made medical and research equipment. Pretty sure there was a large explosion at a research facility here in New York. I don't think they are around anymore. But I didn’t think their research included this type of gene splicing.” Carina took Donatello's hand, her burn abandoned. The sudden contact startled him. “I am intrigued how the mutagenic compound could successfully combine two strands of DNA when, between species, the number of base pairs would not match up. In particular, the human genome clearly dominates many features even though the base genome had been turtle. I don't particularly know the muscle structure of turtle species, bone structure is fairly similar to human but the bone proportions,” her hands moved up his arm and past his elbow. Being shorter than Donatello she propped herself up on her knees, “Are turtle clavicle's similar to the human clavicle? Oh, what about under your shell, is it,” he batted her hand away, playfully.  
    “That is private.” He laughed. Her curiosity was certainly endearing.  
    “Sorry...sorry.” She smiled warmly.  “It’s nice to talk shop with someone.” She sat back on her feet. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”   
    “It’s ok.” Leo’s paranoia crept in, questioning whether she was hiding her true nature except the tell tale signs of agitation and nervousness were coming to the surface. Pulling her hair, tucking it behind her ear repeatedly, small half smiles. “Your father is well respected in the scientific community. I wouldn’t think it would be hard to find peers to discuss engineering with you.”   
    Her hand fell over his, “Harder than you’d think.” She flipped his hand over, drawing her finger along his palm. Muscles under the skin flexed at the slight pressure. “I’m a pariah. My dad dropped out of the game when he joined the military. His work was top secret and he had to stop publishing papers.” Gently she turned his hand over again. Blood vessels popped up from the skin. Her thumb massaged his knuckles, “It might not be said out loud but loads of people think nepotism got me to where I was in the field. Also, they are all assholes.” Gripping his wrist, she bent his forearm. In her preoccupation he could notice a sadness that had been growing, “When I took a WHO assignment they all looked down on me. Then it became like my choice to go from genetic engineering to helping people was not worthy of their time. So, this is nice.” She tucked that sadness behind a forced smile.  
    He let her continue prodding his arm, “Pariah, huh?”   
    “Well, they call me a bitch usually.” A laugh burst out of him. “But to be fair, most of their published papers have glaring errors…so.”   
    “You don’t.” His arm lifted over his head, rotating it. Stifling giggles was becoming difficult.   
    “Every time. I told you, they are assholes.”   
    Chris lifted his sister from the walkway. “You scare animals they become unpredictable.” Wiggling wildly, Carina turned on her brother and connected hard with a slap and a curse. He dropped her. Right in the grass. “Bitch.”   
    She kicked out at Chris until he retreated to the house. “Told you I get called a bitch.”   
    “Because you are one,” her brother called from the safety of the living room. She rolled in the grass. Don knew the look from sparring with his brothers, sparring playfully.   
    A spring breeze rustled the cherry blossoms overhead. Carina watched as a few flowers floated down to her, the grass.   
    “Who in the scientific community knows enough about gene splicing to have made the mutagenic compound?” The question caught Donatello off guard. His mind had wandered in multiple directions. The circuit boards in his sack, the tree, cherry blossoms dotting the ground.   
    “Baxter Stockman. At least, that is who we tracked the container to at TCRI.” Joy turned sour on her. “You knew him?”   
    “Non compos mentis.” Carina sat up, trying to keep her voice light.   
    “Is that your professional opinion?”   
    “He is bat shit crazy.” He noticed how she scratched at her head when she was annoyed. Hair falling across her face then sweeping it back again.  “What? Ok, he certainly became persona non grata at symposiums. He was paranoid we were all trying to steal his theories, his papers were became more and more science fiction. I mean, the journals stopped publishing them because he never had credible tests. If there were no one knew about them.”   
    “I guess he wasn’t totally off the mark.”    
    She’d kicked herself around sitting near his feet. A finger poked at his ankle. “I may have to revisit his papers.” He offered a hand to help her back up. “What was the errand you had to run?”   
    His bag slid to her, inside the circuit boards sitting in static bags. “Refrigerator stopped working. Hoping at least one of these boards will work. None of them had scorch marks.”   
    “Next question, how do you get groceries?”   
    Donnie’s phone, tucked in his belt, vibrated. “That may need to stay a mystery for now.” A message from Casey popped up, then another. He checked the message again before deciding if he needed his bo or not. He’d have to go over the fence to get to the neighboring roof.   
    “Well, I can always help. You don’t need more milk, do you?”   
    He was at the fence, contemplating whether he should return. “Have you put out tea every night?” She nodded back, clutching at both mugs. “Maybe I should let you know before I stop by next. So you don’t waste tea.” He’d hesitated about leaving the paper. If he hadn’t said something she may have not noticed and it could blow away in the wind. She unfolded the wrinkled paper: _duz_machines84@gmail.com_

* * *

 

    Chris stared at his phone. He was baffled by their father. He’d sent another picture of his sister and that mutant.   
     _Chris: Her new pet was made by Stockman._  
 _Dad: Strange. Never knew any of his work got to the testing phase._  
 _Chris: That is what you are worried about?_  
 _Dad: Be kind. So…_  
 _Chris: …_  
  
    Chris couldn’t think of what to say. What was there to figure out? His sister befriended some crazy monster made by an equally crazy monster and his own father was playing with riddles. Throwing the phone into the couch Chris shoved a pillow over his face. Nothing so dramatic as screaming into it but he needed to block out his crazy world.   
    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad I got this up. I've been very focused on Camp Nano and working hard on the second story arc. Fluffy chapter but I think it's cute. I hope you enjoyed this so far. Next chapter will be up next Monday. Please like or comment. Thank you!


	10. Chapter 10

    Donatello blinked at the screen. Again and again. He hadn’t slept well the night before, their sparring earlier in the day led to a huge fight between Mikey and Raph, landing him and Leo in the middle and nursing injuries, and to top it all off his free time was spent in a shift he picked up to make a few extra bucks.   
    His email pinged. His hope was that it regarded a fender he could send Casey to pick up. Instead it was an email from Mr. Leoni at an electronics shop in Little Italy. They’d met through the IT service Donatello worked for and sometimes he bumped repairs he couldn’t or didn’t want to do to Don. Another way to pick up some extra money.   
    He had a laptop that wouldn’t boot from a customer. 3:47 pm.  He could make it there and back before they went out on patrol, even without the van. He scanned the message again. He’d never made a pick up so early in the day. He could bury himself under clothes and a hat, possibly a helmet and take a bike. Either option was risky. Neither thrilled him.   
    Another buzz started from somewhere in his computer lab. Not from any of his monitors or the VOiP headset. Searching every flat surface he eventually found his cell phone under a tangle of cords near his security monitors. His personal email had buzzed with a new message. Which was just an email from the auto body yard about an upcoming promotion. Another email further down he didn’t recognize the address but it was easy to guess. The message was nothing more than a phone number and a picture of a sakura blossom in extreme focus and the good doctor a blurry after thought.   
    Grabbing the headset again he dialed fast, “Hello?”   
    “The blossoms are falling fast.”   
    He could see her face light up with just a giggle, “I didn’t think you’d call.”  
    “I have to run an errand to run.” 

* * *

    Mikey jumped from station to station, bored with everything. Not particularly bored enough to train with Leo or clean. Still bored. The news story was a blip, barely something to register but it caught Donatello’s attention as he was leaving.   
    “Go back,” Don made him go back to the news.   
    “-the blaze is finally under control. Firefighters from three surrounding stations have been battling since the early morning. At this point, it is unclear why the owners of the warehouse have not stepped forward. Officials are warning area residents to stay evacuated from the surrounding blocks as winds have picked up over the last few hours. There is concern that the-”   
    Mikey’s feet dangled over the back of the couch as he lay upside down, “What’s the big deal?”   
    “We staked out that warehouse several weeks ago. There was nothing there and no activity.”   
    “Okay…”  
    “It’s owned by Don Vizioso. Huh.”

* * *

    Carina filled her arms with eggs, carrots, tofu, green onions, leeks and leftover sweet potato cakes. Two pots steamed on the stove, one with water and one with broth. Oil was starting to sizzle in the frying pans on the front of the stove. She tapped her slippers on the floor, upbeat pop music playing. Donatello looked over the top of the laptop, hoping it would boot this time.  
    “You really don't need to make dinner.”  
    She shredded the carrots quickly and chopped the onions. “Long day. We were booked solid. I am starving. And Chris mentioned ramen earlier.” She dumped some cut pork into one frying pan and the tofu into the other. Tofu sauteed quickly and she added the leeks and carrots. “Besides, I love cooking. And you should eat before going out later.” He hadn’t mentioned any plans, she’d inferred correctly.   
    Chris rubbed his eyes as he stumbled out of his room. Glaring at Donatello, he kissed his sister's head and rubbed her shoulder. “I was going to cook dinner. And you never make ramen.”  
    “I love ramen.”  
    “Let me rephrase, you always make me cook ramen.”  
    “No, I don't.”  
    “For the last two years, wait, three years? Yes, you do.”  
    Shrugging, “He needed food fast. He's finishing some work then heading out.” Out came the vegetables and she started frying eggs. Ramen was dumped in the boiling water.  
    “The turtle works?” Chris rubbed his face once more as he woke up.  
    Donatello mumbled a bit and flipped the laptop over to look at the interior. He pulled the RAM modules out and replaced them. “IT phone service.”  
    Chris enjoyed poking fun at his sister's strange friend, “That is not a phone.”  
    Carina kicked backwards at her brother, “He has a drop box at Mr. Leoni's two blocks over. I was trying to tell him I can just take it back to Mr. Leoni so he can get home.”  
    “Gang activity has been increasing lately with the Purple Dragon's having a battle over territory with the Vizioso mob.”  
    Chris eyed Donatello but admitted, “He is right.”  
    “I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself.” she shook out the ramen and ladled stock into each of the three bowls.   Adding veggies and meat to two she topped each with an egg. The computer whirred as it finally started it's boot sequence. “I do own a clinic in a pretty terrible area.”  
    “Totally your idea.” Chris grabbed his bowl and a stool to sit at the kitchen bar.  
    Carina stabbed at her brother with chopsticks. She placed his bowl next to his hand and threw a spoon at him.  
    “You don't have any pork.” Donatello mumbled. She hadn’t even seen him look away from the laptop.  
    She grimaced at the chopsticks she held, they were probably too small for Donatello's hands. Her forks might present the same issue. “I don't eat meat.” She picked up a piece of leftover sweet potato cake with her chopsticks and grabbed the cooking chopsticks on the counter. “Will these work for you?”  
    “Yes, thank you. You don't eat meat?”  
    Chris kicked at his sister, “Fifteen years.”  
    “Shut up.” Just like his brothers.  
    Donatello moved the laptop aside and looked down at the ramen. It had been rare for him to have much other than pizza when his brother's did the grocery shopping. His mouth watered with the scent of salty pork and broth. The eggs smelled buttery. Carina slurped noodles across the counter then looked down into her bowl.  
    Chris poked his sister's hair with his chopsticks, “I think he likes your cooking.” Donatello felt heat rising to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short chapter this week but I really enjoyed this one. Next week back to action. I have been super busy on the second arc and I have some other surprise up on my tumblr. See you next monday! Please like or comment! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Violent chapter, please be warned.

    “I thought when you said we were going out on a date,” April’s nails dug into Casey’s arm. “Not what I had in mind, Jones.” She scowled more with Raph giggling in her ear.  
    Keeping up a happy facade  required Casey to pry her nails from his flesh. Deeper in the night than most couples out on a date, the streets were thinning out. Making them easy targets. “Come on, honey. The restaurant is just up this way,” his gritted teeth which only made Raphael laugh harder.  
    Leo and Raph were following along the rooftops. Raphael let Leo stay ahead. While better than the stakeouts had been, he was still itching to hit someone. And yet here he now had the rare chance to enjoy the city lights, Chinatown’s specifically, was an extra treat. Strings of lights were hung, lanterns dampening their glow as the people below were preparing for a festival or maybe an attempt to draw more tourists. Either way he loved taking in his city. To make the night perfect he even got time with Leo quiet and Casey getting attacked.  
    “I see some, guys. Next alley past the shops. Three of them.” Leo whispered in everyone’s ears.  
    Raph bounded across a few rooftops to meet back up with Leo. Loud, harsh laughter echoed up to them. Raph’s own stomach twisted as they were recounting what happened at the noodle restaurant. All Raph could make out before his anger erupted was breaking something. He hoped it was a bone, make his job easier. In reality probably just one of those goons hitting a dumpster or breaking a beer bottle while they kept recounting their latest job And Leo holding him back as Casey and April merrily turned into the alley.  
    “I’m sure it’s this way. It’s a shortcut sweetheart.” Casey ran them into the Dragons hanging out in the alley. Terribly, he pantomimed fear when the Dragon’s leered at him and April.  
    Licking his lips, the tallest Dragon approached. Unlike Casey, April made a show of being aghast at the men looking her over as if she were a piece of meat.  She cowered into Casey’s shoulder, “Lookie here. We got some guests who don’t know nothing about our turf.” He grabbed a lock of her hair, “Pretty little thing, too.” Casey fumed but kept silent. He would get his hits in soon enough.  “We’re in a good mood. Just got paid, wanna come enjoy it with us?” He crooned at April, causing Casey to let loose and push him back. Starting the fight sooner than Leo had planned.  
    Leo and Raph landed silently behind the other two as they cheered for their boss. They stayed there as a black limousine pulled up, depositing one black suited man and four of Vizioso's surly and tackily dressed enforcers in the alley and sped off again. 

* * *

    Donatello felt confident the restaurant was abandoned, for the time being. Whatever had transpired left him nauseous and Mikey seemed a bit pale and distraught too. Blood spatter and pooling would indicate at least a few men were grievously injured since they’re last stakeout. However, Don Vizioso abandoning his favored restaurant seemed out of place. His plan was to be in and out, plant some wireless mics and get back in position on the roof across the street.  
    His plan fell apart when voices came from the back door. They had no where to go. The front door was locked and loud with it’s bell. He wouldn’t have time. Mikey panicked as the noises got closer. He rammed into Don, dragging him to the dark corner booths. No lights were on in the restaurant.  The only advantage they would have is the shadows. Decorative shelving hung close to the ceiling, dusty plastic ivy coiling along the wall. They held themselves there as five of Vizioso’s men threw two Dragon’s through one of the tables.  
    “Now, our boss ain’t patient.” Another goon threw Casey into the Dragon’s laying on the floor, “So, let me tell you what we’re going to do. Whoever this goomba is, we’s gonna show you what we’s going to do to you on him. You stickin’ Dragons,” darkness obscured which gangster smashed into the pile of men with the bat. Casey, being on top rolled away, not as far as he’d hoped. Something menacing that neither turtle could see, but easily guess, pointing at his face.  
    Don’s grip was slipping. Mikey caught his arm and hauled him back into the shadow. The damage was done. Someone saw the shadows move and got trigger happy. A single shot hit near Mikey’s leg and he dropped his brother. Not only were they spotted, but mayhem ensued. Casey tackled the guy in front of him, knife thrown away. Don rushed at the two next to him, one holding a bat, jumping fallen chairs and the broken table. Mikey went for the opposite side. The big man, Vizioso’s earner, dove at the Dragon’s. Gun and teeth bared. The shot deafened everyone. The flash putting a momentary pause on the mayhem. Enough for Don hit a nerve on one mobster’s back and take him out of commission.  
    The earner used the distraction to dig through everything on the two Dragon’s. A tang filled the room, seeping onto the floor and on Casey. Mikey, distracted by pinning his mobster with his nunchuku had no good angles on the room. The flash had left him blinded enough that he didn’t see the earner. Having gotten what he was looking for, his gun lost in the darkness, he’d found the bat. Donatello saw the first hit smash into Mikey’s head. Forgetting about the mobster his focus had been on, Don ran, tackling Mikey away from the mobsters. Casey groped for something, anything. A table leg swung at one mobster, barely hitting hard enough to make him fall back a step.  
    Mikey wobbled, dropping his weapons. The earner, ignoring Casey, swung again at the turtles, clipping Donatello across his chest.  
    Shards of glass rained on the room, the window gone. Leo and Raph burst in, April just after. They had to make a decision, and fast. Donatello struggled to keep Michelangelo upright. He wobbled dangerously and Don’s strength waned. The earner and his last associate backed away as Leo doubted which direction he should go. He was left with a dead Dragon, several unconscious mobsters and Donatello falling to the floor under his brother’s weight. 

* * *

 

    “Can you not dance? Have you tried?” Chris shoved his sister’s butt away from him. Her good mood, while infectious, led to annoying consequences for him. Dancing was only one. He was rethinking why he’d agreed to move in with her again. Especially when she bumped him with her butt again, music blasting on her headphones so blaringly loud she didn’t even have them on her ears.  
    “Nope. The music has me,” she tried to lure him in with her over the top dance moves. Moves she’d memorized from music videos as children. She was giddy and he didn’t stand a chance of having a peaceful night. “Come on!” He couldn’t ignore her as she pulled him with her in an attempt to moonwalk, except she couldn’t hold back fits of laughter.  
    Freeing himself, she danced her way out into the garden, calling to Chris to join her. She jumped off the walkway without incident but something blocked a perfect landing. In a tangle of limbs, Donatello tried to catch her on her way down, forgetting his own injury.  
    “Hey, what are you…what happened?” Collapsing next to her, Donatello rolled over. He hadn’t remembered actually walking here. He’d found himself on the roof. His chest felt heavier than it had after the fight in the restaurant. Tight. He took solace in the white cloud above him. Petals rained down, the grass speckled. “Donatello? Hey.” Carina had turned off the music. Fingers snapped repeatedly near his face, “Hey, what in the ever loving hell happened?” Petals dotted her hair.  
    “Car? What…ow.” She’d snapped his face close to hers, worried. His labored breathing caught her attention. She prodded along his arm and chest, the bruise coloring becoming more apparent as her vision adjusted to the night.  
    “Oh, what happened?” Any trace of the initial annoyance dissolved. Tenderly, she tested his arm, rotating it.  
    “I might suggest you don’t leave tonight.” He winced under her prodding.  
    “Wasn’t planning on it.” Draping his arm over her she moved him to the walkway to sit. “But I want to know what happened.”  
    Chris, curious why his sister had stopped harassing him, dropped her bag next to them. “Stupid fight with my brother.”  
    “Your brother did this to you?” her shriek snapped him out of his haze.  
    “No, none of my brother’s would do this. Not intentionally.” Confused, Donatello grabbed at his chest. Carina removed his hand, replacing it with a stethoscope. “Vizioso is moving in on the Dragon territory. He had an earner take out one of the Dragon’s who…ah…collects protection money.”  
    “Uh huh.” Satisfied his lungs were ok, she grimaced. “Not exactly news in this area. Vizioso and Dragons fight all the time.”  
    “This is different.” She took his arm again, taking a good look at where he was bruised. Testing to see if she could feel any potential problems. He continued, “Have you considered moving?”  
    Her hands were warm against his skin, comforting but he was more afraid he’d scared her. Donatello kicked at the petals pooling between them, scattering them to the breeze. “I’m not moving. And I’m not scared of these gangs. My clinic is important. These people need me here and even if I moved I would still be here all the time because of the clinic.” Leaving his arm around her, she prodded at his chest. “But the concern is appreciated. I can take care of myself.” She could feel his anxieties surfacing. He shifted under over her, not able to sit still even though he was in pain. His eyes glazed with tears threatening, “I wasn’t about to go out anywhere tonight anyways.”  
    He took in a few deep breaths, each causing another wince. “Mikey got hurt.” A pile of white had formed again. “Leo blamed me. He said I’ve been too distracted with projects and not focused on my training enough. That I missed all the signs that they were headed our way. Left the radio with my bag, not on me.” Arm dangling down her back, he flexed his hand. As his thoughts came together his breathing slowed, still labored but slower and steadier. “Maybe he’s right.” He was used to his thoughts racing. They still were, but in circles doubting himself. Doubting what happened in the restaurant. How he could have let something happen to his brother.  
    Carina edged closer, determined to get a good look at the bruising across his chest. “You never told me your brother’s names.”  
    She’d broken the loop of doubt, “What?”  
    “Your brothers. I didn’t know their names.” Now he was conscious of much more. How close she was, his arm and how much his chest hurt holding in his breath because he’d forgotten to keep breathing. “It wasn’t your fault.” Lightly, she brushed his chest, he didn’t wince but he wasn’t sure he registered it much either. “Your bruising is going to be pretty severe. You may have bruised the bones a bit. You’re going to have to take it easy. Even with training.”  
    “I-is that so?”  
    She giggled at how flustered he’d become and backed off. “Doctor’s orders. I could give you some pain medication but…”  
    “No, no. That’s…I’m fine.” Donatello moved, giving himself more space to breath.  
    “Doubting yourself is not going to help much.” The reminder of his looping thoughts drew him back in. She tried to keep him from spiraling into self loathing. “Your brother getting hurt was not your fault. It was a fight and I am sure you more than anyone know the danger inherent in any fight.”  
    Her fingers curled around his. “It was a bad hit to the head.”  
    She nodded with him, “Ok, well concussion protocol…”  
    “I know concussion protocol.”  
    “Of course you do.” Blowing out a few breaths, she flattened her hair and tucked it behind her ears. Several times. “Well, I would say Mikey is in good hands then.”

* * *

 

    Awkward displays aside, Chris grimaced at his sister as she returned. She’d seen off her strange mutant who’d given her all kinds of reasons to worry. Except she was angry.  
    “Well, that was strange and disgusting to watch.” Her response, reliably was to throw her bag into his chest. “I mean what kind of creature would want to cuddle with you?” She didn’t retaliate like she would. He waited as she chewed her lip. Waiting for his words to sink in but they didn’t.  
    “We have a new problem.” The words that always started a late night. “Vizioso.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Be back next week. I changed my posting schedule to Fridays to see how different traffic would be. Be back next Friday! Please like or comment! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Graphic depictions of violence in this chapter.

    The woman whimpered behind the counter, cradling her young son. The crying and wailing got on Vizioso’s earner’s nerves. Years of keeping tabs on Little Italy, the shop owners knew their place. He and his men showed up, and if they couldn’t pay up he gave them their I.O.U. reminder. With his favorite knuckles. But these people, the hysterics they were giving him, the Dragon’s were so inferior letting them think they have such free reign.  
    “P-please. The Dragon’s took their share. We have nothing else we can give.”  
    This was what he’d been hoping for after the fiasco at the don’s restaurant. Weird freaks in masks, dumb Dragon’s making it difficult to do his job. This, he knew how to handle this.  
    “Now, that, my friend, is the wrong answer. See’s…there is the down payment for our services right there.” Brass knuckles splintered the ancient cash register. The drawer forced open. Gees, the man was even crying. Crying like his little boy. “Down payment. Means we’ll be back.” Ting. The door’s bell announced customers. He’d set the sign to closed. People in this part of town didn’t read too good. “The sign says they’re closed,” he growled. His men snickered, one handing over the gun they’d held to the woman and kid.  
    Two Ghouls, hoods obscuring their faces, grinned at them. Actually their masks grinned. One casually locked the door then lowered the blinds.  
    “You think you Ghouls scare us?” The earner crunched his knuckles. His men pulled the woman standing by her hair. Yelps turned to harder sobbing. Her son tried to break free and protect his mother. “Step towards me and the bitch-” the closest Ghoul twisted the gun from his hand, snapping at least one of his fingers. In a blur, the Ghoul had crashed the gun into his hand, bones cracking. An arm wrapped across his throat. His already black and blue face went fuschia. Then paled with his own gun pointed at him.  
    His associates hid behind the woman and kid, fighting for the small space she could shield. A taser crackled to life. In a blur one mobster convulsed near the earner. The other pointed a wobbly gun between the woman and the Ghouls. The earner jabbed his hand into the Ghoul with the bared teeth’s thigh, ramming again into its knee. That same Ghoul took two quick shots, the earner’s legs rife with pain and blood. One more shot took the third associate down.  
    The woman collapsed back to the ground, unable to stop sobbing and shielding her son. The man next to her was frozen. His eyes were wide, unblinking. The Ghouls exchanged a look, the owner would later think of remorse. He’d heard the tales, rumors, pretty much ghost stories of these Ghouls. They were both on the floor, rummaging through the screaming man’s pockets. A small ledger their target. One knelt on the man’s wound intensifying his screams and the woman’s sobs.  
    “Keep this safe.” The metallic voice, garbled, spoke finally while piling the cash on the counter. It adjusted the hood to see the woman and boy clearly. “You’re safe now.”

* * *

    Don Vizioso was eager to hear from his earner. He’d been the top earner for years and always done well bringing in money. Chinatown was a big job and in reality he probably couldn’t get all the way down to the end in one night. Vizioso assumed there would be resistance. But the most important message would be sent to the Dragons. He wouldn’t let them or the Foot bully Don Vizioso. Then he could send cleaners of all sorts around to his restaurant and Chinatown, in case there were any stragglers that did not get his message.  
    He’d opted to dine in his favorite hotel while he waited on the news. He’d taken some time to take care of his own personal business before arriving for his late dinner. The staff had been awaiting him, keeping the restaurant to his liking, empty. He would have settled for some pretty women having some drinks but it appeared they had followed his directions very well. The entire restaurant was empty. And dark. Grumbling to his bodyguards they scurried around the room looking for the lights.  
    Lamps overhead flared to life, showcasing his earner and one of his associates bound and gagged. The third lay lifeless between them. Fierce, masked smiles greeted Vizioso. His blood turned to ice.  
    Wine glass held aloft, delicately by gloved hands, the Ghoul’s eyes bored into Vizioso, blood red irises peeking out from the hood, “Don Vizioso. What a pleasure for you to join us finally. Your family members and I had quite the disagreement.” Pouring the wine over the head of the earner, it continued, the speaker crackling as it spoke, “You knew Chinatown was off limits for your family.” The other Ghoul stood back with the wine bottle, holding it as one of Vizioso’s well tailored waiters might. Until it shattered against the wall behind them, showering the wall in wine. Jagged points glistened as the other took the bottle. The Ghoul stood giving Vizioso and his bodyguards a good view of the earner’s gun in it’s hand. “Did you forget that you are not allowed to operate in Chinatown?”  
    Stepping over the limbs of his men, the Ghoul started to get impatient for an answer. Vizioso’s bodyguards both cursed themselves. They should have entered prepared, especially when the restaurant was dark. The warnings had been there. Each tried to quietly unsnap their holsters. The Ghoul at the wall, who’d said nothing the entire time, sliced their hands with knives concealed in it’s coat.  
    “That was a warning,” the other Ghoul’s smile reached it’s nightmare eyes. “We are prepared to leave none of your men alive, Vizioso. In fact, your family might need to look for a new Don.” Glass slashed at the young associate.  
    “W-we understand.” Vizioso was not accustomed to conceding ground. Not to his enemies. Most mobsters and gangs were not like these Ghouls. Something about them ate away at his soul. It was the first time he’d been terrified of someone in ages.  
    Unlike Vizioso’s restaurant, which afforded him privacy to conduct whatever business he needed, the hotel had some residents. Residents unaccustomed to the violence the mafia can bring. Police sirens blared, still blocks away. Vizioso would turn them away no matter what. He did not involve police but the damage was done. “I’m glad we have an arrangement.” Five blasts deafened them all, the earner slumped over dragging the young associate with him. “You need a new earner.” Two more shots rang out, his bodyguards stood still for seconds after the shots faded then they joined the earner on the floor. “They were pretty terrible bodyguards.”

* * *

 

    The mask fell around her neck the more she rubbed her face. Sitting in the safety of her garden she’d finally removed her hood, shook her hair out. The night had gotten out of control. She hadn’t meant for it happen. Carina’s intentions had been to go out and stop Vizioso’s men same has they had countless times with the Dragons.  
    Her gloved hands ripped at the grass under her. She threw it away, watching fall flatly in the mottled lawn.  
    Chris eased himself next to her. “You look like a demon.” His nudge was meant to break her from her trance. “Take out the damn contacts.” He couldn’t sit there and let her cry, even if this had all been her lead and her mission. She didn’t budge. “Did you, maybe, go a little too far tonight?” Carina tapped her head against the tree. He could tell she was replaying the evening again. “Planning to go back to the old ways? Get the band back together?” His sarcasm was falling completely flat.  
    Carina breathed out, “Shut up.” It was the first thing she’d said since they’d left Vizioso’s hotel.  
    “Was it the kid? His mom? She was pretty…”  
    “Shut up.” More forcefully yet still barely audible.  
    He needed her to get it out. Now. Before she went back out there. “Was it…”  
    “They almost killed Casey.” The sheen of a tear glistened on her cheek.  
    Chris nodded. True. Probably. “They almost killed…”  
    “Don’t.” She pushed him away. His arm had snaked it’s way around her neck. “Just stop.”  
    Carina stood. Her legs wobbled and she wasn’t sure they would hold her up. “Ok, fine.” Chris relented. “But this is going to get you in trouble.”  
    “What?”  
    With a wide sweeping gesture she grimaced. He’d pointed to her in general. Not helpful. “Just…all that.” His terrible joke aside, she collapsed onto the walkway. When her eyes closed all she could see was Don’s pallor from the previous night. How he talked about his brother. Assuming they looked similar, she couldn’t stop thinking about symptoms of a concussion, if he was ok. How would they even treat him if he wasn’t. What they’d…no she’d done was a mistake. Now her thoughts were tangled around each other in a familiar twist. Her chest ached as her stomach threatened to betray her.

* * *

 

    Casey woke with April. He’d had fitful sleep at best. Both because April tossed and turned all night and every time he closed his eyes he saw people getting hurt. First Mikey and Don. It didn’t end there. He started seeing people he’d seen around Chinatown. Little kids in the clinic, their parents. The shop owners every time Chris took him to lunch for helping rebuild their house. One of the most bustling parts of the city, so many people there that could be hurt.  
    April felt every turn Casey made in the night. There was little comfort she could give. Eventually they both gave up, throwing on the morning news and brewing extra strong coffee. April was the girlfriend he didn’t deserve. He could smell her breakfast, burning toast and eggs. Making breakfast was her way of saying she felt guilty he’d had to end the night early. Not as guilty as he felt watching the news.  
    Police had tried to enter one of Vizioso’s hotels after a report of shots fired but had been denied entry. The witnesses were what caught Casey’s attention. Someone had seen the guy that beat Mikey with the baseball bat. The description was dead on.  
    After Vizioso’s men fled, Leo and Raph helped him with the last Dragon. He was far more willing to talk than when they’d first met in the alley. A ledger. They were the Dragon’s that collected security money from the shop owners in Chinatown. A poor business for them since the Ghouls had moved in. The Ghouls had ordered the Dragons to stop. At first the Dragon’s stuck to collecting protection money until nearly twenty of them had been picked up on various charges ranging from battery to extortion all with evidence. That was what he was willing to tell them. Casey could see an underlying fear in the kid’s eyes. He wasn’t more than twenty. He’d probably been in the Dragon’s since high school, grew up with them. They were his brothers. And those brother’s died often in the gang wars. Casey remembered the previous wars. The Chosen, the Disciples, and Vizioso’s family through the years of their rise. The Ghouls were no different from the outside.  
    Like a superstition, they weren’t really talked about. They weren’t caught on camera. They disappeared in the dark, just like damn ninjas.  
    April was out the door early. “Meeting with the new client.”  
    “Again?” Casey groaned. “How many meetings do you need to have to find something for this guy.” Casey generally checked the jealousy. After Winter’s he’d been silly assuming these guys were all after April. “Who is it again?”  
    “Allistair Alcott.” April sighed. Casey just stared back at her, as if he was supposed to know who that was. “Own Alcott Industries. The fastest growing pharmaceutical supplier…why do I try?”

* * *

 

    His services weren’t needed hauling crates around nor installing counters. Casey had a few places he could go, check on friends. Play some basketball. Last night still ate away at him. He ended up in Chinatown, going into every shop. Casey rarely knew the right questions to ask, but that didn’t stop him. There was no plan, he just started asking questions. No one was missing money, at least not on account of Vizioso’s mob. They insisted. Half a dozen shops in and he finally started to see it. The way they repeated the statement. The same statement. In one case he hadn’t even mentioned Vizioso and the shop keeper played it like he hadn’t understood the question due to faulty English.  
    Nearing lunch time, he was happy to be in an area with so many restaurants. He had only half eaten April’s breakfast. The thought counted, that was what mattered. Not the rubbery eggs that he had to pretend he wasn’t choking down. The next stop was a dumpling shop. As people streamed out of the tiny restaurant boxes of steaming meat filled dumplings passed Casey. The scent was enough to send his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering.  
    The lunch rush was coming to a close. Few people lingered inside waiting for their orders. A small woman took orders behind the counter, more frail looking than he would have thought for someone her age. Her eyes sagged, her handwriting jagged as she tried to take orders but kept rewriting them. Very strange. Most restaurants he’d been in the workers were so accustomed to the menu and the restaurant they could spout off the orders as if it were nothing. She was struggling to keep up. Struggling to make change for the man in front of him, too. A small box sat next to her, she actively avoided even looking at the cash register. Splintered plastic and keys.  
    He could hear her apologizing profusely as she finished with the guy in the suit. Casey put on the biggest grin he could, trying to make some small talk and find out what was the most popular dumplings he could get. After he ordered, Casey waited off to the side next to a small boy drawing at the counter.  
    “That’s pretty cool.” He had a way with kids.  
    The boy peeked at his mother before answering quietly, “It’s a comic about the Ghouls.”  
    “Is it?” Casey wasn’t about to ask what happened in the restaurant, at least not to the woman. She looked like she was about to have a breakdown if someone asked her anything not related to dumplings.  
    “They’re so cool! Oh,” his head snapped back down, covering the page with another blank piece of paper as his mother approached. She gave the boy some instructions in Chinese and he bounded off the stool and to the back. Casey snuck the page out from under the others. Not bad drawings of the Ghouls. The kid had seen them. Not only that, they were here. And they were the same ones he’d seen.  
    Casey didn’t recognize the bell on the door ring as another customer came in behind him. A few quiet words were exchanged in Chinese then, “Casey! What are you doing here? Are you working on the house?”  
    He slammed the paper on the counter, “Car, what are you doing here?” His voice rose as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.  
    “Getting lunch.” She pointed at the counter. “I order from here all the time…since the clinic is down the block.” Casey checked out the window again. Sure enough he could see the clinic all the way down at the end of the block. He looked back at the paper, playing with the edge. “So, what are you doing all the way down here?”  
    The boy came bouncing back to his stool, a bag of dumplings dropped right in Carina’s hand as he passed. She grabbed at his shoulder, “Feng, you didn’t say hello.”  
    He gave her a happy greeting, in Chinese, then snatched his paper from Casey. “Look,” he beckoned her closer.  
    “Ah, your mother will kill you.” She whispered back.  
    “But they’re heroes!” Feng whined at Carina.  
    “Heroes, huh?” Casey asked even if it got him a warning glance from Carina.  
    Feng jumped around, mock shooting things around the restaurant until Carina picked up the boy in a bear hug. Kicking his legs playfully, she tickled his sides, “Your mother will not appreciate this. Stop talking about it.” His feet caught her knees, a shot of pain rang up her leg. Car dropped the boy and let him scurry up to his stool. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” She hissed.  
    “It’s Saturday,” Casey flicked at her forehead, a little gesture she used to do to him every time he got in a fight. Carina stood upright, gingerly. In the noon light from the windows Casey could see bags, equally purple to his own, under Carina’s eyes. “You ok? You look tired.”  
    “Hmm?” Carina pushed hair away from her eyes, trying to prolong the question. “I was just…up late. Always busy keeping things in order for the neighborhood. The clinic. It’s really Saturday? Huh.”  
    Casey’s food landed in front of him, ready for him to take out of the tiny store. “Yeah. Just glad you were not out last night.”  
    “Why is that, Jones?”  
    Casey’s heart raced looking for an answer. “No…I mean…Well, it was all over the news.” She just stared at him as another diner entered to pick up and order. “The Vizioso stuff.”  
    Carina chuckled, “There wasn’t much on the news about that.”  
    Casey laughed it off, forcefully. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just worry about you living in this neighborhood.”  
    “Everyone’s worrying about me living here.” She rolled her eyes at him. Casey held the door open for her so he could walk her down to the clinic, a question lingering between them, “Ah, does your girlfriend know you’re here?”  
    “Wha-April?” Casey dropped the door not knowing it had a strong hinge. The door slammed into his face before he could recover and slide out.  
    “Yeah, well I don’t want to be caught on her bad side. She’s already jealous of me.”  
    Looking to his reflection in the dumpling restaurant window, he could see a bump where the door hit. Another bruise. He wasn’t sure how much more torment he could take from the guys. “Jealous…she’s not.”  
    “Yeah, she is.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arg! I tried to upload a commission I had of my OC. I will try again next week. Until next Friday!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A lot of swearing.

    Chilled spring nights had kept Carina inside in the evenings instead of in the garden. Now that the blossoms had all fallen from the tree and the temperature had dropped she started leaving a cup of tea in an insulated mug and a note to come inside on the walkway. Furniture was starting to make the house feel more like a home. A new sectional couch, television and stand and coffee table were finally unpacked. Tea steaming in the mug on the coffee table, Carina sat cross legged on the floor connecting wires for a Blu-ray player and sound system bouncing to a light pop song, singing along. Slightly off key.   
    Donatello slid the door open, watching Carina work.  
    “I don't need help with this,” she smiled, sitting back after making sure the HDMI cable was secure. She checked that the Blu-ray player worked and set it in the stand.  
    “May I come in?”  
    “You don't have to ask. Look! It looks like a home, at least out here. Our bedrooms are still pretty bare but…look!” Carina winced as she untwisted herself from wires to get off the floor.  Donatello caught her arm as she stepped onto the coffee table and over to the couch. “How are the bruises?” She went right to his arm and it was his turn to wince.   
    “Hurts like hell, thank you.” He pulled her hand off his arm. Promptly letting go again, he glanced at her leg, “Are you injured? Did something happen with…the Purple Dragons?”   
    Hugging a pillow on the couch she buried her nose in the soft fabric and answered, “Mmmm, it was actually the incredibly dangerous task of taking out the garbage at work.” Her socked foot nudged her cup of tea, she wanted it but not enough to untangle herself from the pillow. Handing it to her, Donatello rolled his eyes, “See, it’s not going to be gangs that get me, it will be puddle filled potholes. Thank you.”   
    “That is something I don’t think I can help with.”   
    “Damn. Then you let the potholes win.” As she sipped at the tea she stared pointedly at his chest. “Can it break? I mean-well…no, I mean I know anything can break given enough force but…the,” her hand spun, face frozen as she searched for the word.  
    “Plastron. Yes, it was a concern. It bruised. Very happy it did not crack.” He was surprised she was even still awake. Her eyes were heavy. Now that he noticed even her voice was thick. He’d messaged her that he would stop by but that may have been a mistake. She’d stayed awake when she should be sleeping.   
    Suddenly, Carina's eyes grew wide, her smile wider. Her entire face lit erasing the exhaustion.“Mochi,” a fervent whisper.  
    “Mochi?”  
    She bit her thumb enthusiastically to keep from squealing. Shoving the mug of tea in his free hand she jumped from the couch and ran as fast as she could to the refrigerator, hiding her limp as best she could. “A client of mine brought mochi as a gift for treating her son.” Plastic containers shifted around as she mumbled between sentences. “It is so hard to find good mochi around here because well…the Japanese market is…where is it?” Donatello pulled a laptop from his bag. Her silence confused him. She’d stopped shuffling containers, stopped mumbling. Glass rattled as the refrigerator door slammed shut. “Chris!” she howled, startling Donatello enough to burn his hand with his tea.   
    Stomping through the living room Carina barged into her brother’s room. Donatello wondered whether he should bother trying to boot the computer in his bag as the familiar sounds of kicks and punches were thrown. This felt surprisingly like home. Along with a constant stream of profanity. Chris had begun fighting back if her own grunts were any indication.   
    “Where the fuck is my mochi you shit?”   
    However Chris hit his sister her cry turned to muffled yelling. Carina, thrown over his shoulder, was pelting him in the back as he carried her to the couch. “Figures, the peanut gallery saw everything.” Another punch landed square in his back, “Bitch!” He threw her down on the couch. “You’re fucking psycho.”   
    Hurling a pillow at Chris, “You ate my goddamn mochi!” she puffed out her cheeks, blowing hair out of her face.  
    “Didn’t have your name on it.” Chris ducked as a slipper flew at him.   
    “Yes, it did! Mrs. Izuku got it for me!” She fumed as her brother giggled. Donatello tried to stifle his own laughter, but it was hard. Her face scrunched up. Nursing her side, Carina pouted. “God, he’s such an ass.” Seeing Donatello laughing turned her bright red. “Ah…heh.”   
    “That probably didn’t help your knee,” she buried her face in a small throw pillow, hoping her face would go back to it’s normal color. “Normally I would say brute force is not useful in solving problems…but,” he stopped, thinking better of finishing his own sentence.   
    “But?”   
    “It puts my mind at ease a bit to know you can fight like that.”   
    Pulling the pillow back enough to see him, Carina answered, “Really?” He’d sat back from her field of vision.   
    “My brother would be impressed.”   
    “Mikey or Leo?”   
    “Raphael,” his voice dry. She was more like Raph than he’d ever thought.   
    “Raphael? I didn’t know you had three brothers.” Donatello concentrated on his tea drawing out the moment because he really didn’t know what else to say. Donatello considered leaving, letting her sleep. Her face was buried again in the pillow. Returning the mug to the coffee table he went to reach for his bag, say good night when her hand darted to his. “Let’s make cookies.” Letting her take him from the couch, he sat on a new barstool at the breakfast bar while she piled ingredients on the counter. As the pile grew, he watched her as she talked to herself about cookies. Mostly which recipes she had the ingredients on hand for and could make quickly. He hadn’t realized she’d started talking to him again, “I am surprised you even came by.”   
    He needed some answer but his mind had gone blank while he’d watched her. “Tea,” was the first thing he could think to say.   
    “Tea, right.” A small smirk played across her lips as she dropped butter into the bowl.   
    “I had to make a pick up from Mr. Leoni’s.” His mind had cleared enough to remember why he had come. The entire reason why he had come. Sure, some days he needed time out of the lair alone. For all the trips to the junkyard he’d make there were handfuls of places he visited to clear his mind. Mikey was alright after he waited day and night for any signs of a concussion. When they didn’t come, and he hadn’t slept, Leo’s barbs about the assault dug in deeper. Raphael came to his rescue a few times but the lack of sleep, his own injuries and work were overwhelming him. And in his own head he could not fathom how the Vizioso mob was connected with the Foot Clan. Paranoia about the Foot Clan had seemingly gripped Leo. While he and his brothers were all for fighting crime Leo’s obsession was coming with a cost. At least, potentially. His own stresses could also have been making it harder for him to see the whole picture.   
    He’d not heard the mixer turn on until it was off again, “How-how does that work? If you don’t mind…?”   
    If she saw the far off look in his eyes she did not let on. “Oh, it’s-if it’s after hours he has a lock box I can pick up the items. If it’s earlier in the day I-I have some clothes and a jacket…a hat.”   
    Flour formed clouds around Carina as she imagined him in clothes. “That would be a sight,” Chris mocked from his doorway, ducking back into his room when his sister’s other slipper flew at his head.   
    “Fuck off!”   
    “Noted,” he called back, staying safely hidden in his room.   
    Carina needed a few deep breaths before returning to her cookies. Haphazardly dumping as many chips as she could fit into the dough. “You’re not working on it?”   
    “Not a rush job. I can work on it at home later tonight.” His own hands had a dusting of flour, just as her face and cheeks did. “Besides, there is flour everywhere. Not healthy for a laptop.”   
    “Hey, I need flour for cookies!”   
    “On the counter?”   
    Chris, daring to open his door again, “Someone is on my side? Strange.” Carina hurled the spatula she’d pulled out at the door. They both heard his muted curse after it bounced off the door.   
    Forming the cookies on the sheet pan, “So, can I ask about your brothers?”  
    He knew it was inevitable she would ask. Seeing as he was already down the rabbit hole, so to speak. “What would you like to know?”   
    Face lighting up again, erasing any remaining hints of exhaustion, she bounced trying to come up with a question. “Who’s the oldest?”   
    “Leo, we think. Our memories are hazy before our mutation.”   
    Carina continued with her cookies, kicking the oven door closed once they were in. “Do any of your brother’s work, besides you? And…the whole-” all she could do was point at his bo.   
    “Ah-no. Not now. Michelangelo did when Leo was training. He-he actually was pretty good at it.” Stuffing the spoon in her mouth, full of cookie dough, he groaned. “You’re a doctor…?”  
    “Well-ah, yea. But…I know it’s not safe.” Begrudgingly, she pushed the bowl over, “Fine. What did-Michelangelo. Wait.” Her smile grew to the point of stinging. “Seriously? Michelangelo? Donatello? Raphael? Is Leo…?” Don nodded, her smile infectious. “Oh my god, I love your family.”   
    Mug empty, he passed it across the flour covered counter, “Mikey worked kids birthday parties.”   
    She mouthed the word parties, a snap reverberating. “Cowabunga Carl.”   
    “How could you possibly know that? It was before you moved to New York.”   
    “One of my patients! He had Cowabunga Carl at his birthday party last year. His mom is devastated because he’s been asking for Cowabunga Carl to come back but she knows he isn’t around anymore!” Laughter poured out of her, rising in pitch and intensity. When the small snort rattled her nose, a cycle started.  
    The door to the garden slid open, slow and steady. Chris used the laughter to creep behind his sister, showering her and Donatello in fallen sakura flowers. “Brought you some flowers, dear sister.”   
    A stunned silence last mere seconds, “I am going to murder you!” She grunted, giving her brother chase.   
    “Yeah, yeah. I know where you sleep, blah blah blah.” Chris taunted, dashing out the door to the garden.   
    “Bold of you to assume I would do it while you sleep!” Donatello could hear her yelling around the garden. Both bolted back into the house, Chris shutting his sister out of the bedroom, “He’s not going to tell anyone!” She yelled, fist pounding the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidental hiatus there after the family got sick then got me sick. But I'm back! Should be back next week with another chapter too!


	14. Chapter 14

    Donatello waited by the coffee maker, yawning. Leo insisted on extra patrols the last few nights. The Ghouls had ramped up their assault on the Purple Dragons. Not that Leo was keen to get involved in that fight, but there was the lingering question he wanted answered as to why the Ghouls, Dragons and Vizioso were at each other’s throats. A question no one could or would answer. Their patrols had been quietest they’d been in months. Vizioso was laying low, his restaurant cleaned up but next to no criminal activity. The Dragon’s, while still out and about, had also laid off their own criminal enterprises. The Ghouls were their next bet on finding out what was happening. And Leo had an insatiable need to try to stop them before they became as hard to manage as the Purple Dragons. Probably harder since they were rarely seen, unlike the Dragon’s which could be found milling about on the streets of Chinatown. After their long night watching nothing happen on the streets, and now his work shift, his brothers were all asleep and he stayed awake to sift through the internet looking for Ghoul sightings. They were not sloppy but there may be clues on social media or various news agencies. He could at least get a couple algorithms going and grab a little sleep.  
    Hours later, Donatello woke up in his computer chair, his neck aching from the odd angle he had slept. Next to his empty cup he saw Carina's schedule for the week. She had taken a shift at the emergency room today. He rubbed the back of his neck, then his eyes. Hitting a few keys, he noted a few promising hits on his searches. Medical truck supply raids. Scanning them quickly he didn’t see any connections to his set parameters. But he would get back to those in a few minutes, he really needed a meal and caffeine, in large quantities.   
    Ambling out of his room, Mikey greeted him from the couch. “Don! You returned from the dark,” he waved his hands for emphasis, “darkness of your room.”  
    Donatello mumbled quietly, patting Mikey on the head as he passed by. Donatello flipped open a couple left over pizza boxes, finding at least one slice of something appetizing, not one of Mikey's ridiculous concoctions. He savored the few minutes of quiet before Leo sat down with Donatello.  
    “Where have you been?” Leo flicked the pizza boxes. His brother had been absent from meals more and more lately. He’d intended to talk to Don about how far removed he’d become except that some days it was hard to find him at all.   
    “Working.” Don poured himself some coffee. “I have some algorithms running, think I might have something. I will take a look in a little while.”   
    Lifting the lid of one pizza box after another frowning at the leftover mess. “Something promising?”  
    “Medical supply truck raids.” He was already setting off for his computer alcove, Leo jogging to catch up. Raph caught the movement. He knew the sluggish ambling of his brother just waking up but also Leo’s determined following. His complaints about Don missing dinner were noted, by everyone. Including Casey. Who wasn’t even at dinner with them.  
    “I am not sure I understand, Donnie. Who cares about medical trucks? Vizioso? Ghouls?” Shrugging, Don started reading through the matches, annoying Leo even more. “Well, what are you sure about, Don?”   
    The walls filled with computer monitors strained Raph’s eyes. Unless he was doing the occasional, secretive kind act for his brother. Secrets he would take to his grave. “What’s going on?”   
    “Apparently, medical supplies to local hospitals are being stolen at an alarming rate. So much so that I believe it is impacting some of the closest hospitals.” Donatello thought of the last shift Carina had worked at the hospital, how haggard she’d been. Normal, from his understanding of emergency room work, but he could only imagine. Gouverneur looked to be impacted, heavily. None of these raids had made it on to the news yet. The hits he got were from varying sources of conspiracy theorists claiming it was a plot to increase prices at the hospitals and local news sites sending out alerts based on attacks to the community. The attacks radiated from Chinatown.   
    “That’s your problem, Leo. This obsession is going to get us no where.”  
    “Do I have to explain my logic to you again, Raph? We are talking about the bigger picture.”   
    “I thought helping people was the bigger picture. Don says there’s medical supplies going missing, shouldn’t we go after these goons?” One of the the rolling desk chairs from the living rooms squeaked it’s way into the alcove. Mikey spun around, enjoying the latest round of Raph and Leo verbally sparring. “Oh, I forgot. Our mission is to find out what Karai’s stupidly cryptic message was after they haven’t shown their faces for months.”   
    Quivering his voice to sound haunting, Mikey’s fingers danced in their faces, “Old faces will return….ooooooh. Spooky!” Raph gave a good hard shove, sending Mikey out of the alcove again.   
    Donatello tuned his brothers out. One of the files had an image. It was grainy. No amount of enhancement would change that. He could make out figures. Based on the location and the angle he might be able to get the rest of the security footage. There might be a better image.   
    Mikey’s chair caught on Don’s bag strap near the entrance of the computer lab. Toppling out of the chair, Mikey took the bag with him. Everything spilt out. Wilted, drying cherry blossoms covered the floor. Mikey looked at them in awe, remembering Splinter’s story. He could see the tree blossoming as if it were there in front of him now. “Don, Don, Don!” Mikey scooped up the flowers, raining them down on all three of his brothers. “Cherry blossoms!”   
    Donatello felt a wave of numbness rush through him. Leo and Raph’s bickering stopped too. “Cherry blossoms?” Leo knew the blossoms. His brother’s increasing absences made more sense. “Donnie? Care to explain?”   
    Raph gritted, “Here it comes.”  
    “There’s only one sakura tree we know about, Don. Not many places to find them in New York.” Leo's unwavering gaze forced Donatello back a step.  
    “Isn't that shrine on the path to the salvage yard?” Raph asked, leaning forward, enjoying a rare sight. Leo usually reserved this glare for him.  
    Sighing, “Yes.” He tried to return to the screens, the solitary image from the truck raids.   
    “Were you seen?” Leo snarled.   
    “No.”   
    “You’re the worst liar. Didn't want Master Leo finding out!” Raph chuckled.   
    “You were seen?” Don cringed, waiting for more. There would certainly be more from Leo. “We’re ninja, Don! God, how could you of all people…?”   
    Mikey bounded in behind them. “You met someone? Is there really a ghost in the temple?” Mikey's enthusiasm contrasted deeply with Leo's anger. Anger that Donatello faced when he turned back to his brothers.  
    “Someone found out about you, us?”  
    “No, yes. It's fine she's not,” Donatello was cut off by Leo's burning rage.  
    “How could you do that Don? Who is it that found out a ninja?” Donatello winced again.  
    Donatello didn't answer immediately. Raph shook with laughter while Mikey just looked on curiously. The silence was stifling. Donatello had no idea how to answer, what to say. He'd known it had been a poor decision to return when he was first found out.  
    Mikey leaned against the door frame, inching out the door slowly. “You know, if this girl already knows about us,” he started backing through the door, “It would be ok to just go say hi.” Mikey bolted for the door, Raph close behind laughing wildly.  
    “Wait!” Donatello rushed after his brothers with Leo close behind. All four sprinted through the sewers, heading towards Chinatown. “Guys, she might still be working. What time is it?”  
    “And what does this mystery girl do for a living?” Leo spat at his brother.  
    “She's a doctor.” Donatello moved ahead of Leo, exasperated with Leo's reaction already.  
    Mikey whistled, “Doctor, nice.”  
    “Don, keeping secrets,” Raph tutted. “I'm impressed.”  
    “Seriously, though, she was working a long shift today.”  
    Mikey smiled, “Aw, you know her work schedule.”  
    Leo grunted, “What is her name?”  
    “Carina Atwell.”  
    Leo pulled his phone and texted as he ran.  
    April, what do you know about a Dr. Carina Atwell?

* * *

 

    One moment Casey was enjoying his late dinner, a sandwich April picked up on the way home, the next she was pinching his ear and yanking down as hard as possible. “What is your friend up to?” she hissed.   
    He had no idea what was going on. Between gasps of pain after each subsequent tug he asked, “What is going on?”   
    “Leo texted. He knows about Carrie.”  
    “Carina.” Correcting her had been a mistake the moment he did it. April had his head on the table already.   
    “Take me to her place.”   
    Protesting would be a worse idea than correcting her again. She was, also, already dragging him to the door by his ear.

* * *

 

    Carina threw her keys on the counter. She needed a shower, she needed dinner, but she had very little motivation to move further than the stool she pulled out and sat on. Chris came out of his room, pausing to kiss his sister's head and continue to the refrigerator.  
    “How was work?”  
    “Purple Dragons and Vizioso turf war is getting out of hand. And there are…other players in the mix. There were a lot of members of both in tonight.” Hair ripped from her head as she pulled her hair down, adding to her frustration with the day, “I don't need Vizioso moving in here. We have enough trouble with the Dragons. Already need to get back on their case about some of the local shops. Some of their guys went in trying to get money from the Zheng's.”  
    “I'll add it to the list. I have several errands to run tomorrow.” Chris patted her hand.  
    She looked at his other hand, “Is that the last yogurt cup?” His flashed a toothy smile at her. “I hate you.”  
    Getting up from the stool, she slid the door open and stepped out. She stretched her arms wide, yawning and tried to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. Her motivation to cook was gone, if she wanted to eat something more than crackers she would need to order something. Delivery. Definitely order something for delivery because she was not leaving the house again. A shower, some food and maybe television.  
    Her eyes watered slightly. Carina cursed about the day, tousled her hair and wiped the tears away. As her vision cleared she noticed three figures under the cherry tree. It may have been entirely possible that she should just give up and go to bed if she was seeing multiples. “Donatello?” she mumbled.  
    Mikey slapped Raph’s chest, “She's cute.”  
    Donatello, last to come up from the sewer, pushed past Raph and Michelangelo.  
    “I'm really sorry about this,” Donatello tried to apologize until Leo intervened.  
    “Hello, Dr. Atwell.”  
    Carina cocked her head slightly, rarely was she referred to by her title as it aggravated her beyond reason. “Yes, it's nice to meet you, Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo.”  
    “Dude, she knows our names.” Mikey shook Don's shoulders.  
    “Wonder what else she knows.” Leo scoffed.  
    Carina walked over to the brothers, placing a hand on Donatello's shoulder. Her bleary eyes made him groan internally but her lips tugged up slightly, “Should we go inside and talk?” Leo nodded, a fiery look in his eyes. Michelangelo took the chance to jump next to her and Donatello.   
    Lacing his arm into hers, “My bro’s been holding out on us. What do you two crazy kids get up to?”   
    “All sorts of shenanigans.” Carina playfully hopped along with Mikey. “Ah, we talk about science stuff, we eat food, I make him tea. We are absolute wild children.” Gasping emphatically, she added, “Sometimes he fixes things.”  
    “Oh, you wild dog.” Raph rolled his eyes, batting at Donatello's mask.  
    When they all stepped inside Carina looked around the living room and flung her hair tie into the couch. “Company.” Chris flipped his book closed and moaned.  
    “Adopted more pets for the peanut gallery? Fantastic.” Chris dropped his book, eyeing each turtle carefully. Chris pulled his sister from Michelangelo's arm, kissed her head and continued into the kitchen.  
    Through clenched teeth, Leo asked, “Who is that?”  
    Donatello replied softly, “Her brother, Chris.”  
    “She has a brother? Anyone else we need to worry about?” Leo turned, accusing eyes on Donatello again.  
    Carina turned to Michelangelo, “He's in a mood, huh?” He giggled back at her.   
    “It's so much better when it's not happening to you.” Raph said.  
    The doorbell chimed, only adding to Carina’s own exhaustion. All conversation, grumbling, complaining and rummaging halted. Everyone turned, confused. When the doorbell repeated it’s sequence she ushered everyone into the cramped kitchen. “What fresh hell is this?” At their protests she answered, “We are not expecting company.” Tossing a bag on the counter, Chris pushed through everyone to answer the door. He heard a woman’s voice rising from the door.   
    “Well, if she has an excuse I would love to hear it.” Cracking the door open, he quickly tried to find an excuse except April barreled in before he could even greet them. Casey chased her, pleading for April to stop. “What are you doing with them? What is it you want?”   
    “Oh, sweet fresh hell.” Carina muttered.   
    “Hey, everyone’s here. Wonderful.” Casey waved to the room. Leo joining April, they advanced on Carina, Donatello standing ground behind her. For all the commotion in the room, Chris quietly locked the door and returned to the kitchen. The heated argument started again, April adding fuel to Leo’s fire. Of all the times her brother made protective gestures to keep Donatello in line, she cursed him as he sat back and made popcorn.   
    “So, what is your excuse? Huh?” April jabbed at her.   
    “Excuse for what?” she was being driven back further.   
    “She the whole reason behind the medical trucks you were searching?” Leo boxed her in between him and Don.   
    “No, Leo. The medical supply truck raids came up in the searches you asked me to do.”   
    Casey sat with Raph and Mikey at the breakfast bar, munching the popcorn Chris set out. “So, you guys know her?”   
    “Don does. We are just along for the ride and watching Leo go ape shit.” Raph stole another handful, “Wait, how do you know her?”   
    “We grew up together.” Chris bumped fists with Casey, in some macho attempt at being cool. Raph could tell they were both dorks about it.   
    Raph felt terrible for the poor, tiny girl. She was wedged between his brothers and April was firing off questions over their argument.  Each jab Leo made for Don she flinched back further into him, shielding her ears. For all the anger flowing, Raph was impressed by how cool, if not completely irritated, Don stayed. He could never keep his cool like that. He knew how the tiniest things would set him off.   
    “Don, this isn’t just about you getting seen by someone, though that is a huge problem since it’s more than one! It’s completely irresponsible of you to have come back. How do you know she hasn’t done any tests.”   
    Casey felt his stomach flop around. He knew her, at least he thought he knew her enough that she would never do something like that. Not without consent.   
    “Shouldn’t you be helping?” Raph asked. Mikey flipped the popcorn bowl upside down, disappointed it was empty so quickly.   
    “Which one? I help one and the other will skin me alive.” Casey opened a container, Mikey lit up. Cookies!  
    There it was. Something to make Donatello flounder. A momentary pause in the commotion, even giving April pause. Carina had started unfolding herself from between the brothers when they started again. Shoving Leo back Carina let out a piercing whistle, “Shut up! Everyone just shut up!” Throwing Leo’s own hand out of her path, she made her tiny self as large as possible, an icy glare bouncing between the two. “I am exhausted from work, I smell, I’m starving. So, this is what we’re going to do. Everyone who had been yelling at me can kindly get their asses outside in the garden and cool the hell off. Everyone who had not been yelling can wait here in the living room and kitchen. I am going to change.”  Leo started to protest until, “I said outside now!” For once, he was shocked into silence. Leo obeyed quietly, April following suit.   
    Donatello, fearful of more yelling, began to apologize, “Carina, I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”  
    Donatello expected anger, annoyance. He expected her to say she would like them all to leave and never return. He expected Chris's peanut gallery comments and other jabs to start up after whatever Carina would throw at him in anger.  
    He did not expect Carina to gently place her hand on his cheek, “Nothing to worry about. I’m just tired.” Too short to place the same kind of protective peck on his head, she settled for a gentle caress of his cheek, “I have so many more siblings than you. This is nothing.” Stealing a cookie from the bin, she left for her own room..   
    One side of Raphael's mouth turned up, “She is feisty. I might be in love.”  
    Michelangelo slapped Raph's shoulder, “Dude.”  
    “What? You don't enjoy seeing Leo get the treatment he gives us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to posting regularly, I hope! Eeeee! Hope you liked the chapter! Back next week!


	15. Chapter 15

    Donatello waited by the coffee maker, yawning. Leo insisted on extra patrols the last few nights. The Ghouls had ramped up their assault on the Purple Dragons. Not that Leo was keen to get involved in that fight, but there was the lingering question he wanted answered as to why the Ghouls, Dragons and Vizioso were at each other’s throats. A question no one could or would answer. Their patrols had been quietest they’d been in months. Vizioso was laying low, his restaurant cleaned up but next to no criminal activity. The Dragon’s, while still out and about, had also laid off their own criminal enterprises. The Ghouls were their next bet on finding out what was happening. And Leo had an insatiable need to try to stop them before they became as hard to manage as the Purple Dragons. Probably harder since they were rarely seen, unlike the Dragon’s which could be found milling about on the streets of Chinatown. After their long night watching nothing happen on the streets, and now his work shift, his brothers were all asleep and he stayed awake to sift through the internet looking for Ghoul sightings. They were not sloppy but there may be clues on social media or various news agencies. He could at least get a couple algorithms going and grab a little sleep.  
    Hours later, Donatello woke up in his computer chair, his neck aching from the odd angle he had slept. Next to his empty cup he saw Carina's schedule for the week. She had taken a shift at the emergency room today. He rubbed the back of his neck, then his eyes. Hitting a few keys, he noted a few promising hits on his searches. Medical truck supply raids. Scanning them quickly he didn’t see any connections to his set parameters but he was having a hard time remembering what parameters he’d even set. He could get back to those in a few minutes, he really needed a meal and caffeine, in large quantities.   
    Ambling out of his room, Mikey greeted him from the couch. “Don! You returned from the dark,” he waved his hands for emphasis, “darkness of your room.”  
    Donatello mumbled quietly, patting Mikey on the head as he passed by. Donatello flipped open a couple left over pizza boxes, finding at least one slice of something appetizing, not one of Mikey's ridiculous concoctions. He savored the few minutes of quiet before Leo sat down with Donatello.  
    “Where have you been?” Leo flicked the pizza boxes. His brother had been absent from meals more and more lately. He’d intended to talk to Don about how far removed he’d become except that some days it was hard to find him at all.   
    “Working.” Don poured himself some coffee. “I have some algorithms running, think I might have something. I will take a look in a little while.”   
    Lifting the lid of one pizza box after another frowning at the leftover mess. “Something promising?”  
    “Medical supply truck raids.” He was already setting off for his computer alcove, Leo jogging to catch up. Raph caught the movement. He knew the sluggish ambling of his brother just waking up but also Leo’s determined following. His complaints about Don missing dinner were noted, by everyone. Including Casey. Who wasn’t even at dinner with them.  
    “I am not sure I understand, Donnie. Who cares about medical trucks? Vizioso? Ghouls?” Shrugging, Don started reading through the matches, annoying Leo even more. “Well, what are you sure about, Don?”   
    The walls filled with computer monitors strained Raph’s eyes. Unless he was doing the occasional, secretive kind act for his brother. Secrets he would take to his grave. “What’s going on?”   
    “Apparently, medical supplies to local hospitals are being stolen at an alarming rate. So much so that I believe it is impacting some of the closest hospitals.” Donatello thought of the last shift Carina had worked at the hospital, how haggard she’d been. Normal, from his understanding of emergency room work, but he could only imagine. Gouverneur looked to be impacted, heavily. None of these raids had made it on to the news yet. The hits he got were from varying sources of conspiracy theorists claiming it was a plot to increase prices at the hospitals and local news sites sending out alerts based on attacks to the community. The attacks radiated from Chinatown.   
    “That’s your problem, Leo. This obsession is going to get us no where.”  
    “Do I have to explain my logic to you again, Raph? We are talking about the bigger picture.”   
    “I thought helping people was the bigger picture. Don says there’s medical supplies going missing, shouldn’t we go after these goons?” One of the the rolling desk chairs from the living rooms squeaked it’s way into the alcove. Mikey spun around, enjoying the latest round of Raph and Leo verbally sparring. “Oh, I forgot. Our mission is to find out what Karai’s stupidly cryptic message was after they haven’t shown their faces for months.”   
    Quivering his voice to sound haunting, Mikey’s fingers danced in their faces, “Old faces will return….ooooooh. Spooky!” Raph gave a good hard shove, sending Mikey out of the alcove again.   
    Donatello tuned his brothers out. One of the files had an image. It was grainy. No amount of enhancement would change that. He could make out figures. Based on the location and the angle he might be able to get the rest of the security footage. There might be a better image.   
    Mikey’s chair caught on Don’s bag strap near the entrance of the computer lab. Toppling out of the chair, Mikey took the bag with him. Everything spilt out. Wilted, drying cherry blossoms covered the floor. Mikey looked at them in awe, remembering Splinter’s story. He could see the tree blossoming as if it were there in front of him now. “Don, Don, Don!” Mikey scooped up the flowers, raining them down on all three of his brothers. “Cherry blossoms!”   
    Donatello felt a wave of numbness rush through him. Leo and Raph’s bickering stopped too. “Cherry blossoms?” Leo knew the blossoms. His brother’s increasing absences made more sense. “Donnie? Care to explain?”   
    Raph gritted, “Here it comes.”  
    “There’s only one sakura tree we know about, Don. Not many places to find them in New York.” Leo's unwavering gaze forced Donatello back a step.  
    “Isn't that shrine on the path to the salvage yard?” Raph asked, leaning forward, enjoying a rare sight. Leo usually reserved this glare for him.  
    Sighing, “Yes.” He tried to return to the screens, the solitary image from the truck raids.   
    “Were you seen?” Leo snarled.   
    “No.”   
    “You’re the worst liar. Didn't want Master Leo finding out!” Raph chuckled.   
    “You were seen?” Don cringed, waiting for more. There would certainly be more from Leo. “We’re ninja, Don! God, how could you of all people…?”   
    Mikey bounded in behind them. “You met someone? Is there really a ghost in the temple?” Mikey's enthusiasm contrasted deeply with Leo's anger. Anger that Donatello faced when he turned back to his brothers.  
    “Someone found out about you, us?”  
    “No, yes. It's fine she's not,” Donatello was cut off by Leo's burning rage.  
    “How could you do that Don? Who is it that found out a ninja?” Donatello winced again.  
    Donatello didn't answer immediately. Raph shook with laughter while Mikey just looked on curiously. The silence was stifling. Donatello had no idea how to answer, what to say. He'd known it had been a poor decision to return when he was first found out.  
    Mikey leaned against the door frame, inching out the door slowly. “You know, if this girl already knows about us,” he started backing through the door, “It would be ok to just go say hi.” Mikey bolted for the door, Raph close behind laughing wildly.  
    “Wait!” Donatello rushed after his brothers with Leo close behind. All four sprinted through the sewers, heading towards Chinatown. “Guys, she might still be working. What time is it?”  
    “And what does this mystery girl do for a living?” Leo spat at his brother.  
    “She's a doctor.” Donatello moved ahead of Leo, exasperated with Leo's reaction already.  
    Mikey whistled, “Doctor, nice.”  
    “Don, keeping secrets,” Raph tutted. “I'm impressed.”  
    “Seriously, though, she was working a long shift today.”  
    Mikey smiled, “Aw, you know her work schedule.”  
    Leo grunted, “What is her name?”  
    “Carina Atwell.”  
    Leo pulled his phone and texted as he ran.  
   _April, what do you know about a Dr. Carina Atwell?_

* * *

 

    One moment Casey was enjoying his late dinner, a sandwich April picked up on the way home, the next she was pinching his ear and yanking down as hard as possible. “What is your friend up to?” she hissed.   
    He had no idea what was going on. Between gasps of pain after each subsequent tug he asked, “What is going on?”   
    “Leo texted. He knows about Carrie.”  
    “Carina.” Correcting her had been a mistake the moment he did it. April had his head on the table already.   
    “Take me to her place.”   
    Protesting would be a worse idea than correcting her again. She was, also, already dragging him to the door by his ear.

* * *

 

    Carina threw her keys on the counter. She needed a shower, she needed dinner, but she had very little motivation to move further than the stool she pulled out and sat on. Chris came out of his room, pausing to kiss his sister's head and continue to the refrigerator.  
    “How was work?”  
    “Purple Dragons and Vizioso turf war is getting out of hand. And there are…other players in the mix. There were a lot of members of both in tonight.” Hair ripped from her head as she pulled her hair down, adding to her frustration with the day, “I don't need Vizioso moving in here. We have enough trouble with the Dragons. Already need to get back on their case about some of the local shops. Some of their guys went in trying to get money from the Zheng's.”  
    “I'll add it to the list. I have several errands to run tomorrow.” Chris patted her hand.  
    She looked at his other hand, “Is that the last yogurt cup?” His flashed a toothy smile at her. “I hate you.”  
    Getting up from the stool, she slid the door open and stepped out. She stretched her arms wide, yawning and tried to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. Her motivation to cook was gone, if she wanted to eat something more than crackers she would need to order something. Delivery. Definitely order something for delivery because she was not leaving the house again. A shower, some food and maybe television.  
    Her eyes watered slightly. Carina cursed about the day, tousled her hair and wiped the tears away. As her vision cleared she noticed three figures under the cherry tree. It may have been entirely possible that she should just give up and go to bed if she was seeing multiples. “Donatello?” she mumbled.  
    Mikey slapped Raph’s chest, “She's cute.”  
    Donatello, last to come up from the sewer, pushed past Raph and Michelangelo. Four figures now.   
    “I'm really sorry about this,” Donatello tried to apologize until Leo intervened.  
    “Hello, Dr. Atwell.”  
    Carina cocked her head slightly, rarely was she referred to by her title as it aggravated her beyond reason. “Yes, it's nice to meet you, Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo.”  
    “Dude, she knows our names.” Mikey shook Don's shoulders.  
    “Wonder what else she knows.” Leo scoffed.  
    Carina walked over to the brothers, placing a hand on Donatello's shoulder. Her bleary eyes made him groan internally but her lips tugged up slightly, “Should we go inside and talk?” Leo nodded, a fiery look in his eyes. Michelangelo took the chance to jump next to her and Donatello.   
    Lacing his arm into hers, “My bro’s been holding out on us. What do you two crazy kids get up to?”   
    “All sorts of shenanigans.” Carina playfully hopped along with Mikey. “Ah, we talk about science stuff, we eat food, I make him tea. We are absolute wild children.” Gasping emphatically, she added, “Sometimes he fixes things.”  
    “Oh, you wild dog.” Raph rolled his eyes, batting at Donatello's mask.  
    When they all stepped inside Carina looked around the living room and flung her hair tie into the couch. “Company.” Chris flipped his book closed and moaned.  
    “Adopted more pets for the peanut gallery? Fantastic.” Chris dropped his book, eyeing each turtle carefully. Chris pulled his sister from Michelangelo's arm, kissed her head and continued into the kitchen.  
    Through clenched teeth, Leo asked, “Who is that?”  
    Donatello replied softly, “Her brother, Chris.”  
    “She has a brother? Anyone else we need to worry about?” Leo turned, accusing eyes on Donatello again.  
    Carina turned to Michelangelo, “He's in a mood, huh?” He giggled back at her.   
    “It's so much better when it's not happening to you.” Raph said.  
    The doorbell chimed, only adding to Carina’s own exhaustion. All conversation, grumbling, complaining and rummaging halted. Everyone turned, confused. When the doorbell repeated it’s sequence she ushered everyone into the cramped kitchen. “What fresh hell is this?” At their protests she answered, “We are not expecting company.” Tossing a bag on the counter, Chris pushed through everyone to answer the door. He heard a woman’s voice rising from the door.   
    “Well, if she has an excuse I would love to hear it.” Cracking the door open, he quickly tried to find an excuse except April barreled in before he could even greet them. Casey chased her, pleading for April to stop. “What are you doing with them? What is it you want?”   
    “What the ever loving hell?” Carina muttered.   
    “Hey, everyone’s here. Wonderful.” Casey waved to the room. Leo joining April, they advanced on Carina, Donatello standing ground behind her. For all the commotion in the room, Chris quietly locked the door and returned to the kitchen. The heated argument started again, April adding fuel to Leo’s fire. Of all the times her brother made protective gestures to keep Donatello in line, she cursed him as he sat back and made popcorn.   
    “So, what is your excuse? Huh?” April jabbed at her.   
    “Excuse for what?” she was being driven back further.   
    “She the whole reason behind the medical trucks you were searching?” Leo boxed her in between him and Don.   
    “No, Leo. The medical supply truck raids came up in the searches you asked me to do.”   
    Casey sat with Raph and Mikey at the breakfast bar, munching the popcorn Chris set out. “So, you guys know her?”   
    “Don does. We are just along for the ride and watching Leo go ape shit.” Raph stole another handful, “Wait, how do you know her?”   
    “We grew up together.” Chris bumped fists with Casey, in some macho attempt at being cool. Raph could tell they were both dorks about it.   
    Raph felt terrible for the poor, tiny girl. She was wedged between his brothers and April was firing off questions over their argument.  Each jab Leo made for Don she flinched back further into him, shielding her ears. For all the anger flowing, Raph was impressed by how cool, if not completely irritated, Don stayed. He could never keep his cool like that. He knew how the tiniest things would set him off.   
    “Don, this isn’t just about you getting seen by someone, though that is a huge problem since it’s more than one! It’s completely irresponsible of you to have come back. How do you know she hasn’t done any tests.”   
    Casey felt his stomach flop around. He knew Carina, at least he thought he knew her enough that she would never do something like that. Not without consent.   
    “Shouldn’t you be helping?” Raph asked. Mikey flipped the popcorn bowl upside down, disappointed it was empty so quickly.   
    “Which one? I help one and the other will skin me alive.” Casey opened a container and Mikey lit up. Cookies!  
    There it was. Something to make Donatello flounder. A momentary pause in the commotion, even giving April pause. Carina had started unfolding herself from between the brothers when they started again. Shoving Leo back Carina let out a piercing whistle, “Shut up! Everyone just shut up!” Throwing Leo’s own hand out of her path, she made her tiny self as large as possible, an icy glare bouncing between the two. “I am exhausted from work, I smell, I’m starving. So, this is what we’re going to do. Everyone who had been yelling at me can kindly get their asses outside in the garden and cool the hell off. Everyone who had not been yelling can wait here in the living room and kitchen. I am going to change.”  Leo started to protest until, “I said outside now!” For once, he was shocked into silence. Leo obeyed quietly, April following suit.   
    Donatello, fearful of more yelling, began to apologize, “Carina, I am so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”  
    Donatello expected anger, annoyance. He expected her to say she would like them all to leave and never return. He expected Chris's peanut gallery comments and other jabs to start up after whatever Carina would throw at him in anger.  
    He did not expect Carina to gently place her hand on his cheek, “Nothing to worry about. I’m just tired.” Too short to place the same kind of protective peck on his head, she settled for a gentle caress of his cheek, “I have so many more siblings than you. This,” a dismissive wave at the two wandering off to the garden, “is nothing.” Stealing a cookie from the bin, she left for her own room.   
    One side of Raphael's mouth turned up, “She is feisty. I might be in love.”  
    Michelangelo slapped Raph's shoulder, “Dude.”  
    “What? You don't enjoy seeing Leo get the treatment he gives us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to be back on a posting schedule. Be back next week! Please like or comment! Thanks!


	16. Chapter 16

    Mikey patted Donatello on the back. He'd had his face buried in his hands nearly the entire time Carina was changing. All Raph could do was talk about how Donatello had finally made Leo livid, more livid than Raph ever had. Mikey and Casey tried to stop Raph, but he just gunned on with glee. Chris silently ate a cookie with a cup of milk, trying to look disinterested as he watched.   
    “Oh, come on, Case. Leo needs to be pushed off his pedestal sometimes. I get that he's our leader, but this was completely overboard.”  
    “I don't disagree, man. I mean, what are you not allowed to have friends?”  
    “You guys do realize, Don is right here. He can hear everything you are saying.” Mikey, whispered emphatically.  
    Carina had opened her door. She'd brushed her hair, thrown on clean yoga pants and tank top, and was scrolling through her personal cell phone. “He's being overly protective.” Donatello groaned again. “He'll calm down, Donatello. Don't worry.” She tugged playfully on his mask.  
    Casey asked, “Should we head out there?”  
    Dropping her phone on the counter, she put her other arm around Mikey, “Nope, let them stew. They came in guns blazing, they can freaking wait.” A single hard shove landed Casey on the floor, Carina dropping a knee into his stomach. “She hates me!”   
    For all the times Michelangelo waved a cookie in Raph’s face, he declined. But now he was thoroughly enjoying watching Casey have his butt handed to him by such a tiny girl that he indulged.   
    “You said jealous last time.” She dropped her knee again. It had been the wrong to say, again, the moment it came from his mouth. Casey Jones was on a roll.   
    “Did she even know you were spending time here too? Or is that going to be another nifty little surprise?” Raph raised his eyebrows, a conspiratorial smile creeping across his face, “He remodeled the kitchen.” Threatening to drop another knee in his stomach, “You couldn’t have stopped her from busting in?”   
    “Man, you know how she gets. Well, you can imagine. Do you think anyone could have stopped her?” Slapping his head and pointing at the two conspiring in her garden. “Fine.” She released him. “I’m going to talk to them. See if they will see reason.”   
    Chris lazily dipped his third cookie in his milk. His lazy attitude, now that they were surrounded by his brothers, made Donatello’s gut twist tighter. Then tighter again as Mikey wrapped an arm around Carina’s waist. Raph slapped his brother on the back, “She’s really a threat to our family secret, huh?”   
    Mouth full, Chris dipped the last of his cookie, “Maybe your waistlines.” The last of the cookie, poised to enter his mouth and she finally noticed. Grabbing the tupperware Carina scowled at him, big wide smile taunting her further. Empty. Even though she was next to him, Raph ducked a bit when the container flew across the breakfast bar. “Hungry?”   
    She mimicked Don’s forlorn expression and laid across the breakfast bar, scrolling on her phone. She could feel a few squeezes from Mikey. If he was trying to comfort her, it was not necessary. Don rubbed his neck, keeping an eye on his brother and friends out in the garden. Eyes starting to water he needed to look away from them, compose himself. “They’ll come around. Probably.” She latched on to his arm, forcibly removing his hand away from his neck. Raph could see her feet dangling above the floor as she kicked them about. “Ugh, let’s get this over with.”   
    With no intention of letting her go, Mikey scooped Carina from the bar amidst squeaks and squeals. Leading the way, he headed into the garden with a giggling ball squirming in his arms. “She’s so cute and small! Can we take her home? She won’t take up much room. Plus,” Mikey’s excitement grew but his voice became furtive, “she made those cookies!”  
    Casey tried to keep himself calm, it wasn’t going well. Mikey’s joyful entrance didn’t help since all it did was provoke Leo and April again. “She’s just a doc…for kids.”       
    Leo turned on April, “I thought you said she was a genetic engineer.”   
    Carina freed herself from Mikey’s cradle, “I’m both.” She placed herself between Casey and Leo, doing her best to ignore April’s threatening glare. “Now, if we can have a civilized conversation that does not involve yelling, that would be fantastic.” Blowing out steam, April folded herself onto the grass, Leo followed suit. “Now, as several people here know: I. Stopped. Genetic. Engineering. After. I. Left. School.”   
    Casey threw his hands up, assuming some kind of triumph. Leo and April were less impressed.   
    “I’m sorry about all that.” April’s face twisted between annoyance and regret. “You can understand why I would be concerned.”  
    “I’m not sorry. We have no proof, just her word.” Leo spit the words out.   
    Donatello had followed his other brothers, staying well enough away from Leo. His neck was stiff from the tension. Gripping his neck, he flex his arms, stretching as best he could and giving himself focus. He finally noticed the branches overhead, all the blossoms had floated away, leaving behind growing leaves to obstruct the view of the stars. The few stars they could even see in the city.“She hasn’t published since grad school. Nor attended any conferences. All indications are she’s worked in various health organizations as a normal doctor. She runs the low cost clinic in Chinatown.”  
    “Creepy.” Chris joked from the doorway, draining his milk.  
    Raph had taken to balancing his sai on the back of his hand, bored with Leo’s repetitive logic. “We all know what Master Leo is thinking, no one is willing to say it.”   
    “She’s too cute to be a,” Leo slapped Mikey’s head, warning him.   
    Donatello joined Raph, twirling his bo a little, “She’s not in a-ah, gang.”   
    “Yes, because geneticists never worked with…” Leo caught himself, the curious glances popping up more and more around the group.   
    “I’m just a doctor.” Leo mouthed her declaration. Disbelief still evident. Creeping up to him, she slapped  his chest. He winced. “Is anything going to be good enough, Leo? Do you want a background check? References? It seems you have one that you are ignoring.”   
    Casey, Raph, Mikey and Donnie, waiting for his response, he could see the expectation that he would continue on his rhetoric. “It’s…not…you’re…”  
    “What about them? They’re your friends.”   
    “That’s different. We saved them from,” Leo hesitated again. Mentioning the Foot Clan seemed unwise still.   
    “Oh, good. Ok, so to be your friend I should go slap the closest Purple Dragon member? Let you save me? That’s a brilliant way to build trust.”   
    Leo sighed. He wasn’t even believing his own reasoning anymore. “That’s not funny.”   
    April had retreated from them. Casey tried his best, consoling her with a gentle hand to her back or a hug. April only pushed him back, casting another accusatory glare at him and feeling another round of guilt.   
    Carina, now feeling impatient, started to tap her foot. She upped the tempo as seconds ticked by. “You’re…what if we let her meet dad?” Leo suggested. As the the idea sunk in protests erupted from all his brother’s and Casey.   
    Mikey and Casey mirrored each other’s scream, “What?”  
    Raphael’s anger started to boil, “I thought you were the master. Why do we need to involve dad?”   
    “This is serious, Raph. The more people that know about us….”  
    “The more dangerous it is for you?” Carina connected another hit to another bruise, startling Leo. She smirked at his injuries. “You seem to be doing a good job of that on your own.”   
    After debating whether to speak up again, Donatello softly said, “You don’t need to meet our father.”   
    “No, it’s fine. If this will set Leo’s mind at ease, done. Besides, I’m a ray of sunshine. What wouldn’t your dad love?” Leo met her at eye level, resigned. Another high pitched squeal pierced him. Leo fell back away from her, ears ringing. “Dinner!”   
    “Yes, you ordered it. It’s not here yet.” Chris removed his hands from his ears, having seen the warning signs before the squeal. The others were not so lucky.   
    “No, I have Saturday off. I can make dinner for everyone! I bet Casey and April will have off.” Not waiting for a response, she turned in circles.   
    Casey, mouth watering already, “You’ll make dinner for us? Seriously?” April didn’t bother with a warning and punched Casey’s arm. “She’s a great cook.” With his mind on food he realized how poor of choices he was making now. He hadn’t had a properly home cooked meal in far longer than he’d care to admit. For fear of pain and no where to sleep but in the sewers on a couch.   
    “Settled. Dinner!”           
    April leaned over Casey's shoulder, glowering, “Kind of hard to keep hating someone like her, isn't it?”  
    “Keep telling you she's a great person.” Casey played with April's hair until she pushed his hand away from her face.  
    “Yea, kind of hard.” Leo lowered his face, hiding a small grin.  
  


* * *

 

    “Oh, wait! I have something for you!” Carina raced inside before everyone left. April and Casey were talking with Chris at the front door and watched her run around frantically from one room to the next.  Leo, Raph and Mikey waited at the sewer entrance, watching Donatello patiently at the door to the kitchen. A minute later Carina returned, rummaging through a bag. “I’m not sure if you know this but I had enough research to write one more paper.  I guess I didn’t think it was worth it to publish but…anyways my dad just sent it back yesterday. I was wondering if you wanted to read it, give me any comments?” Her smile twitched a little, nerves getting the better of her with all the attention on both of them.  
    Donatello rubbed a hand along his head, “Yea, yes. I mean, I'm honored. I don't quite know what I could offer.”  
    “I just, thought you would want to read it.”  
    Casey laughed, “Pretty sure you and Leo's worrying was for absolutely nothing.”  
    “Yeah,” April agreed.  
  
    A picture of everyone in the garden filled the text box.  
    Chris: _She's adopted all four of them now._  
    Dad: _I'm happy she is making some more friends finally._  
    Chris: _That is what is important here? Not her safety?_  
    Dad: _You'll figure it out soon enough._  
  


* * *

 

    Chris hadn’t been so amused by a fight in a long time. Until he understood the new mess he was in. “Why? Why are you doing this? Is it really a good idea to have all of them around?”   
    Carina hopped around, energized from the dinner she had inhaled. “It’ll be fine. I have a plan.”   
    “Plan?” Chris hated that word. That word, when said by his sister, held more grief for him than anything else in the world. “Your plans always go…”  
    “Perfectly,” she was already busy at work making lists. Groceries, supplies should need to borrow. Tables, cushions, rice makers, plates, tea settings. She would be working overtime calling brothers and sisters in the area just to make a dinner.   
    “Sure they do.” She wasn’t listening anymore. “Perfect fucking mess for me.” Despite his harsh words the edge of his mouth turned up.

* * *

 

    The walk back to the lair was slow, quiet. Mikey filled the time with endless banter, questions about food Carina might cook, etc. Leo's foul mood had returned not long after leaving for home but he kept to himself during the walk. Raph even had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.   
    The quiet ended when the door to the lair closed behind them.  
    “You got lucky, Don. I mean, keeping all this from us? Your family?” Leo started, every thought he’d had piling up during the walk ready to flow out of him.   
    Raph, before Donatello could respond, said, “You think, maybe, you're the reason he didn't tell us?”  
    “Hey, guys, it worked out. We just need to convince Splinter to come out with us. Out of the lair. Which he almost never does,” Mikey trailed off, concerned. “Uh guys.”  
    “Come on, it’s not like that little woman is a member of the Foot.” They all knew that was all that was on Leo’s mind.   
    “And how can we be so sure, Raph? I mean, was he tailed any of the times he went there?” Mikey backed away from them as Splinter came to check on the warring brothers. “I assume he did some kind of background check on her.”   
    “Background check?” Raph spat, “You know, she made a good point before. We didn’t need one before. Why should we need one now?”  
    Mikey hid on the couch. He wanted nothing more than to turn on the tv and get a game loaded up and ignore his brothers, except it was a good fight and not one of them saw Splinter standing in the kitchen. Which meant it was only going to get better.   
    “I don’t blame him for hiding her.” Raph’s vision tinged red, blood pressure rising. He was already in Leo’s face, Don standing back waiting out the whole process like he usually did. No point in being in the middle when Raph went off completely and threw the first punch.   
    “Doesn’t make you wonder what else he’s hiding?”   
    “No! He’s Don! He might hole himself up in his lab or in front of a computer or be out getting stuff to fix or build or whatever he does, but he’s smart! Smartest guy I can think of. He does everything around here. Works that crappy IT job…”  
    Not that Leo enjoyed having Raph in his face, but he stepped back, genuinely confused. “Still?”  
    “Yeah, still.” Raph reiterated, “You deaf or something?”  
    Don let a low chuckle out, “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”   
    Blood rushed through Raph, beating in his ears. Harsh breaths of his adrenaline pumping not helping. “He deserves a break more than the rest of us.”  He deserved to not get crap from Leo, or him either.   
    Having let it go on long enough Splinter cleared his throat. “A word, Leonardo.” They all knew what his soft voice belied. Leo followed his father obediently. Once Mikey assumed they were out of ear shot an ‘oooh’ escaped him.   
    “Michelangelo, dishes, now!”  
    Mikey let out a heavy sigh, “Yes, sensei.” Raph mocking him with silent laughter.

* * *

 

    Leo paced his father’s room, everything spilling out of him. “I don’t understand. Of any of them, Don never keeps secrets. And now there is this random doctor and her brother and…he’s sneaking off. Ok, sneaking off is probably not the right words, but he didn’t think of what it could do to us. And that, that is saying something considering Don’s brain never turns off.” Splinter sighed in the pause, closing his eyes as Leo continued, “And he’s still working a job? I mean, it makes no sense.  He’s brilliant. Why would he take that job, let alone keep it now?” He’d stopped, nothing more was in his brain except the same thoughts tumbling over one another. He waited for some answer from his father. When he realized he wasn’t getting one he knelt. He needed to steady his breathing. Inhaling deep, he blew out a few times. His mind finally quieting.   
    Splinter’s eyes opened, “Your brother is many things. You are right, he has a brilliant mind. But he also understands many aspects of the world, consciously. Where could your brother use his brilliant mind without fear of his appearance?” His son searched for an answer, understanding that even with the internet his father was right. There were few things he could realistically do as a job or career. “He understands his limitations. He works to support our family, my son. Donatello may greatly dislike his job, but he has found that it is easier for our family to survive than our previous methods.” Day to day living was a concern he’d left behind in the forests of South America when he returned home. They had their shelter, also kept safe by Donatello. They had food, but he hadn’t recently questioned from where.   
    Splinter’s voice broke in, “As far as this doctor,” his father was weary, his thoughts weighing heavily, “I may have impressed on you the need for safety too much. This woman is a friend of Donatello’s?”   
    “Yes, sensei.”   
    His father could hear the hesitation in Leo’s voice, “Do you have a reason to distrust them?”   
    “My gut tells me something is not right.” Leo couldn’t articulate the feeling any further. “I asked them to meet you.”   
   

* * *

 

    Some time later, when he’d worked up the courage, Leo found Don busy working on the van’s engine, the mess of pieces having been mostly put back together. Covered in grease, Don cleaned more grease off the engine as he prepared to put another piece back. His brother was hunched, exhausted. He’d probably fall asleep at the workbench again. Or in his computer chair.   
    He needed to just say something or he would not get anything out. “Hey.”   
    Not bothering to turn around, Don continued cleaning the engine, “Hello, Leo.” The piece would fit, if he’d put everything together correctly.   
    “Why didn’t you say something?” Donatello kept fitting the piece against the engine, something stopping him from finishing. “About the IT job, I mean.”   
    Shrugging, he found a screwdriver, “Never seemed important how we got food on the table. And it’s the best I can do. It’s possible that with other high monetary gains I make on the markets could get flagged and I am not sure I would like to go through an IRS audit.” Metal clanged, the screwdriver banging on the engine. Something was out of place because he was distracted. “I didn’t tell you about everything since I knew how you would react and I was avoiding that interaction.”   
    Leo forced a laugh out, “Sure you weren’t avoiding Raph and Mikey drooling?” Instantly he regretted trying to make a joke. “Sorry.”  Don tapped again then began unscrewing what he’d just put together. “I bet you gave her one hell of a scare.”   
    Grunting, he pulled, “She’s never screamed at me.”   
    “Never?” Don shook his head. “You didn’t find that strange?” An empty pit in Leo’s stomach expanded.   
    Bent pipe. He wasn’t even sure how he’d done that. “I found it comforting.” In a rare show of exasperation with Leo, he ripped the pipe out, cursing under his breath. “May I please get back to work?”


End file.
